Heroes and Outlaws
by White-Tigers-of-Darkness
Summary: Deathstroke wants to control him. The Light wants him dead. Nightwing is in serious trouble and with the team out of action, only his brothers can help him. The long awaited sequel in my Outlaw verse.
1. Chapter 1

At long last, the sequel is here. I have to admit, I have been unwilling to post here for the last few days. I was starting to wonder if this site was going to let me keep my stories. I had already planned to jump ship if any of my stories were deleted, since I worked hard to write these and conform to the sites rules and I really didn't see the point of continuing on this site if suddenly my hard work was gone. But as far as I can see, its all good now. I am still looking for another site to host my work, but more in a reaching a wider readership way then a protesting way.

To everyone who has been following my Outlaw Verse, you have no idea how amazing you all are. I never imagined having so much support when I first started playing with this idea and I am so happy everyone seems to be enjoying my work.

Summary: Deathstroke wants to control him. The Light wants him dead. Nightwing is in serious trouble and only his brothers can help him. The long awaited sequel in my Outlaw verse.

Disclaimer: Me no own. But did you really expect any different?

* * *

A figure stood before a large table, bright screens lighting a case resting on the hard wood. The figure looked down at the middle screen. He was huge, 8 feet tall at least and broad across the shoulders. Many people would be mistaken to think that this man was more a beast then human, if it wasn't for the expensive and well cut suit wrapped around his body. Crossing his muscular arms across his chest, the man leant back, relaxed.

"Mr Desmond, we have been watching your operations with considerable interest. Your work in Bludhaven is truly inspiring." A voice said.

"I was under the impression you called me here for a reason. Not to stand around and dispense pleasantries." The man, Roland Desmond, also known to the world as Blockbuster, stated.

One of the screens flashed, bright light obscuring all but the faint outline of a figure.

"Indeed we did. Word on the street is you are the one who put out the hit on the Justice Brat known as Nightwing."

Blockbuster snorted.

"Of course. The Bat's little protégé has been blocking my operations for months. Bludhaven is mine and no kid in his pyjamas is going to get in my way."

"Mr Desmond, we will be frank. We know that you possess both the intelligence and the strength to destroy the boy. You also claim that you possess the will. Then why have you not eliminated him yet?" Another voice questioned.

Blockbuster tensed slightly.

"And have it known to the Bat that I was the hand that destroyed his brat? I am trying to take control of the city. I cannot be directly responsible for that brat's death unless I want the Bat snooping in my business.

There was a pause as the figures on the screens seemed to consider Blockbusters answer.

This time, a female voice replied.

"What if we could promise the Bat would not interfere with your operations? If Bludhaven becomes yours to control completely?"

Blockbuster snorted.

"You cannot promise that." He replied. This time a male voice answered.

"No. We can't. But we can promise that once the boy is dead, his destruction will not go unnoticed by certain individuals bearing good will to the boy but not to the Bat."

Blockbuster tilted his head. This conversation had suddenly become interesting.

"Continue." He replied.

"We have an operative, a sleeper agent if you will, who can infiltrate the heroes and, should we plant the suggestion that Batman was directly responsible for his protégés death, will act against the detective. And once the Bat is destroyed, Gotham will fall to anyone who is willing to step up and take control."

There was another pause, this time from Blockbuster.

"Are you offering me Gotham City?" He questioned.

"If you want it."

"And what is the catch?" Blockbuster was not stupid. He knew exactly who he was dealing with.

"You kill Nightwing. Not one of your assassins. Not one of your thugs. The boy dies by your hands."

Blockbuster hesitated. They had promised him that the Bat would be taken care of, and control of Gotham City was a sweet deal for getting rid of the brat. But still, everything about this could backfire.

"We thought you might hesitate. Open the case before you."

Blockbuster reached forward and slowly opened the mentioned case. He blinked as he looked down at it. Reaching carefully, he pulled out the small vial of liquid.

"That will ensure the boy's slow death. He will not feel the effects until long after you have used it. Even if the Bat survives, it will be difficult for him to track the death to you."

Blockbuster held the vial out to catch the light.

"Do we have a deal Mr Desmond?" one of the voices asked.

Throwing the vial into the air, Blockbuster caught it with his other hand, wrapping his huge fist around the fragile glass. He smiled at the screens.

"I believe we do."

* * *

It was five minutes to midnight, the normal crowds drying up as the drunks slowly stumbled to their homes. From his place at the bar, Dick Grayson sighed and placed the glass back on the bench, rolled his shoulder and suppressing a wince of pain.

It had been a long day and was looking to be an even longer night. Balancing a normal life as Dick Grayson as well as taking control Bludhaven and his work as the den mother for Young Justice as Nightwing was staring to take its toll on the young hero. Add to that organising Artemis' death and his new responsibilities in Gotham now that Bruce was off planet and Dick was running on fumes. Even with the constant presence of Robin and Batgirl was not enough. To be frank, Dick was thinking of handing over control of the team to Conner and Megan until Bruce was home and Dick was able to juggle his increasingly hectic life.

The door crashed open, two men stumbling through. They were talking loudly, laughing at some joke. Across the bar, Mr Hogan caught Dick's eye. The older man rolled his eyes, already annoyed at the new customers.

One of them stepped forward, banging something silver on the bar. Dick didn't even bother to look down; already knowing it was a Bludhaven Police Department badge. The man didn't bother to order. He didn't have to. This happened every night. Quickly, Dick poured the drinks, passing them over to the cop who didn't even bother to acknowledge him, instead laughing at something his partner said.

It was one of the reasons why he was here in the first place. Bludhaven PD was one of the most corrupt in America, most if not all of the senior officers in the pockets of the local crime lords. Nightwing had not received a friendly welcome, nor had he managed to find any allies in law enforcement. But still, he was not ready to give up.

Picking up a towel, Dick started to polish another glass. Bar work may not be the most glamorous work, but it was a great place to get information for his second job.

Another twinge in his shoulder made Dick sigh. Placing the second glass with its partner, Dick placed the towel down and rubbed his shoulder. He had taken a brick to the shoulder the night before which taking down some small time drug runner who fancied himself as a mercenary. The guy had taken several people hostage in an attempt to gain Nightwing's attention. And gain it he had, the idiot crowing about how he was going to kill the hero and claim the award as Nightwing lunged at him.

The fight had been one-sided and depressingly easy but still, the guy had managed to get one hit in, catching Nightwing of guard for a few seconds before the hero had retaliated, taking down the wannabe villain.

"Almost knock-off time Grayson." A voice said. "You about ready to pack it in?"

Dick turned and smiled at Mr Hogan as the bar's owner walked towards him.

"I sure am Sir." Dick replied as he reached for the third and final glass.

Mr Hogan nodded. The door opened. Dick found himself looked at the bars newest occupant.

It took all of Dicks control not to drop the glass as the new figure stepped into the light. The figure flashed Dick a smile before making his way across the room, claiming the table next to the cops. Seeing Dick's reaction, Mr Hogan turned around, his eyes falling on the newcomer. His eyes narrowed.

"Is there going to be a problem Grayson?" He asked, taking note of the newcomers scruffy looks. Dick shook his head.

"No, Mr Hogan. It's fine. Do you mind if I knock off now?"

"Sure kid. Have a good night."

Dick nodded to Mr Hogan before putting the glass and cloth down, stepping out from behind the bar. He walked towards the table and its smiling occupant.

A hand shot out and caught Dick's wrist. Dick looked at its owner, suppressing the urge to fight the hold. The cop grinned at him.

"Hey kid! How about getting us another round?"

Dick carefully detangled himself from the cops grip, trying to ignore the beer breath.

"Sorry Officer, I'm off for the night."

The cop's face scrunched up as he tried to process Dick's comment but the former Boy Wonder didn't hang around, turning his back to the cops as he stood before the figure.

"You know, for a moment there I was expecting you to break that idiots arm." The figure muttered.

Dick grabbed a chair, sitting down as the figure brushed his blond fringe from his face.

"What are you doing in Bludhaven Jay?" He asked.

Jason's smile widened as Dick glared at him.

"What? I'm not allowed to visit my little brother?" He asked.

Dick rolled his eyes before leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table.

"You have never come to me unless there was another motive Jay. Sorry if I don't completely trust that answer." He warned, raising an eyebrow.

Jason lent back in his seat.

"Alright, you got me Dickie-bird. I came to see if the rumours were true and you really are working in this hell-hole you call a city."

Dick couldn't help but grin at Jason. It was such a Jason comment.

"It's really not that bad." He replied.

Behind him, the cops gave a sudden roar of laughter.

"And then I raised my gun and you should have seen his face! That pyjama clad bastard is gonna think twice before he tries to pull one on me again. I mean, that dumb Batman wannabe will never even wanna look at this uniform if I catch him again." The officer crowed.

Dick thought back to his last encounter with the BPD. Oh yeah, he remembered this guy. He was that officer he had found taking a cut from a local weapons dealer. If Dick remembered correctly, the guy had run the moment Nightwing had appeared, too scared to even try and help his partner. The dealer had screamed in fear and if the hero was remembering correctly, wet himself before fainting, but the cop had gotten away. Dick quickly memorised the cops face for later.

Jason raised an eyebrow, grin returning to his face as he saw the humor in the situation.

"Not a word." Dick said, raising a finger in warning, already knowing what his brother was about to say.

"Whatever, little bird." Jason replied, kicking his feet up to rest on the edge of Dick's chair. Dick glared down at the muddy boots.

"So, how is the replacement doing?" Jason finally asked, hooking one arm over the back of his chair.

"Why do you call Tim that? He's a nice kid and is doing a good job." Dick asked. The surprise hatred Jason harboured for Tim was confusing to Dick, who had found himself caught up in the middle of a sibling war.

Jason snorted.

"Are you kidding me? The kid makes a mockery of everything we ever fought for. He has no skills, no driving force and no backstory. He isn't even really our brother. He's not a Boy Wonder, he's an imposter."

Dick blinked. There was a surprisingly large amount of venom in Jason's voice. Jealously? Was Jason jealous of Tim?

"So if I understand you correctly, you are judging Tim on the fact that he's not an orphan? That's low Jay. You should be happy that he doesn't have to suffer through everything we went through."

"Hey, I'm not the villain here." Jason replied, giving Dick a hurt look. Dick ignored it.

"Yeah you are Jason." Dick said. With a sigh, the younger hero climbed to his feet. "Well Jay, it's been fun hearing you badmouth my new home and little brother, but I really have to go."

Jason smiled, knowing exactly where his brother was going.

"Take care Dickie-bird." He replied.

Dick ignored him, turning his back on his brother. Walking through the bar, Dick waved to Mr Hogan before pushing the doors open, stepping out into the cold street.

Jason's smile disappeared. Sure Dick was angry at him but at least it stopped the hero from asking for the real reason behind Jason's sudden appearance.

"Take care." He muttered.

* * *

Now, for all non-comic reading fans, I should probably clear this up. Roland Desmond is a character from the Nightwing comics. He is the brother of Dr Mark Desmond of Cadmus, the very same mad scientist from the first episode. Roland tried to use his brother as muscle to run his many crimes but after Mark was killed, Roland ended up taking the Blockbuster formula as well. He was just as mindless as his brother until he made a deal with the demon Neron and gained a genius level IQ. In the comics, he tries to take over Bludhaven as the first step to controlling Gotham and ends up taking out a contract on Nightwing to try and get rid of him without being directly connected to the murder incase Batman comes after him.

And that's all you need of his story. I would say more but its not important (and also kind of a spoiler for the comics. I mean, its big. Really big.)

And to the two people who caught my spelling mistakes, thank you. I don't tend to use a beta since I edit everything as I go and there is a huge chance by the time I got my story back from a beta, I would have decided to delete half of it and start again, so I usually do it myself. And once I am deprived of spell-check, it can get interesting fast. Plus I wrote this at mid-night and believe me, it has been a long week. Still, thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

So, another week, another chapter. But I need to say something. Since I am currently entering into a heavy exam period, I cannot now promise regular updates. Seriously, I have 12 exams in 9 weeks. In fact, I should't even be writing this. I should be studying... Oh well.

To everyone who has stuck by this series, Thank you. You are all amazing and I love the fact that you all seem to enjoy my work. I would name you but there are so many, from those first few people who followed 'The New Outlaw' all the way to those people who are only just joining me now. You are the best. Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

Since when did Blockbuster use a knife?

The question ran through Nightwings head, continually going unanswered as the young hero made his way back from his latest escapade.

Of course Blockbuster would choose this particular day to stage an attack. Dick had only just returned from Gotham where he had been working with Robin and Batgirl to take down Poison Ivy and before that at Happy Harbour, monitoring Impulses first time out with the team as the young speedster helped in trying to find La'gaan.

Both missions had been a bust, the lead on La'gaan turning out to be fake, much to the team's disappointment and although Ivy had been easy to take down (Babs was surprisingly good at dealing with her), Catwoman's sudden appearance hadn't been as easy, the woman demanding to know where Batman was. Unlike most of Gotham, she had noticed the Bat's absence and was determined to find out the reason for his sudden disappearance.

And to top it all off, in the back of Dick's mind was the worrying knowledge that Jason was somewhere in his city and knowing the older man, probably up to something bad.

Dick didn't buy his brothers explanation that he was just looking out for Dick. Sure Jason had a fairly good track record when it came to looking out for his little brother, but still, Jason was as trustworthy as a cat. Dick would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Reaching the correct window, Nightwing carefully slipped inside, wincing slightly as the movement aggravated his injuries.

His apartment was as he left it, floor messy with clothes and food lying out in the open. The paint on the walls was peeling and the carpet was stained. It was the prefect teenage bachelor apartment. The perfect cover.

Ignoring the drops of blood as he walked past the mess, the teenage hero made his way to the bedroom and to the walk in cupboard. Pulling open the doors and pushing the clothes out of his way, Dick stepped through, opening the door hidden within. Robin had been helping his older brother to clear out the 'occupied' apartment next door, turning it into a working secret hideout complete with lab, gym and supercomputer linked to the computer in the Batcave, the computer in the Watchtower and the computer in Mount Justice.

Closing the door, Nightwing pulled off his heavy duty gloves, setting them on the table as he walked past. Finding a cloth, he pressed it against his sided. The cloth almost immediately turned red, blood staining it. After counting to ten, Dick pulled the cloth away, looking down at the injury.

Blockbusters knife had cut through the Kevlar weave of Nightwings uniform and left a clean cut in the muscles of the hero's chest. However, it looked like the attack had failed to inflict anything worse than a minor flesh wound. Painful, but not deadly if treated correctly.

Pressing the cloth back to the cut, Dick lent back against the bench.

In hindsight, he should have known it was a set up.

Finishing up in Gotham, Dick had decided to only do a small patrol before calling it a night. That was, until he spotted the robber. Dick had chased the guy through the streets and into one of the old warehouses. Dick had been hesitant to enter the building. Several times already, he had walked into trips like this, one of the many villains attempting to lure him into a battle.

Of course this was a trap as well. However, Nightwing hadn't expected the bait to lead him straight to Blockbuster.

Sure, Nightwing had tangled with the villain before, Bludhavens drug lord and its hero often fighting it out. But Blockbuster had been quiet in recent weeks, and Nightwing too busy with the mercenary's and assassins which had come his way to wonder why.

Now, the suited gangster was back, armed with his brute strength and genius intelligence. Nightwing had of course accepted the challenge, meeting the villain blow for blow. He hadn't seen the tiny pocket knife until it was too late, the sharp metal sinking into his side.

Nightwing had dislodged the knife and fought to put some distance between himself and criminal. But surprisingly after that one hit the villain had backed away from the hero, a strange grin on his face as he watched Nightwing press his hand to his side, stemming the sudden flow of blood.

Footsteps crashed in the gloom, six men running into the battle space. They were heavily armed, surrounding their boss as they waited for Blockbusters orders, which the giant had given with a nod of his head. Nightwing had ducked for cover under the hail of bullets.

After a few minutes of heavy fire, Nightwing had finally made his move, slipping out from his cover to tackle the first gunman.

Either frightened after watching the bloodied hero take down one of their own or lacking confidence in their abilities, the five remaining gunmen turned and fled, leaving their friend at Nightwings mercy.

Realising he was losing a lot of blood, Nightwing ignored the unconscious gunman, turning from the fleeing men and retreating back to his apartment. He would try to figure out Blockbusters plan later.

Pushing away from the bench, Dick unclipped his utility belt and stripped off the top of his costume before collecting the nearest first-aid kit. He was no expert at medicine but thanks for Alfred's carefully tutoring, he was competent at basic field first-aid. With quick, careful movements, Dick sewed up his injury, cleaning the wound and rapping a white bandage around his chest. Once he was sure he had done everything right, the young hero pulled out a small syringe. Alfred had always been weary of infections, making sure the heroes he looked after understood the secret dangers.

Uncapping the needle, Dick pressed it against her arm and took a deep breath. He has been stabbed, burned and even shot and yet he still cringed at the thought of needles. Wincing slightly, Dick pressed down on the plunger, feeling the liquid being forced into his body before pulling the needle free.

Recapping the instrument of torture, Dick placed it in the medical bin before stepping away, picking up the neatly folded clothes he had left for himself earlier. Stripping the rest of his uniform off, Dick quickly changed before sitting down at his computer, opening up a direct link to the batcave. It had been a long day and he really wanted to unwind by gently teasing Barbara.

"Hey Timmy. Shouldn't you be home by now? You know, sleeping? Like a normal person?" He asked as the youngest member of the Batfamily answered. Tim shrugged.

"Sleep is for the weak." The current Boy Wonder replied playfully.

Dick grinned. He liked Tim like this, when the young hero was away from the rest of the team and didn't have to hide his sharp sense of humour behind that sonic mask. This was the side of Tim Jason never saw. The side that Dick was sure would make Jason love their new little brother.

"Alright smart-ass." He laughed. "Is Babs around?"

Tim shook his head.

"Sorry Dick, she went to Arkham to look into Ivy's escape. I can call her back if you like, but it will take a while."

Dick felt his shoulders drop as he let out a small sigh. A sigh which turned into a yawn. Pressing his hand to his mouth, Dick tried to hide the yawn, not wanting his brother to see his sudden exhaustion. Tim shot him a quick glance.

"When was the last time you slept?" The younger hero asked.

"What did you say before? Something about sleeping and weak?" Dick snapped back. A build-up of pressure behind his eyes was warning him of an impending headache. Tim rolled his eyes at Dick's tone.

"Dick, don't think we haven't noticed how much work you have been doing these last few months, picking up the slack in Gotham and leading the team as well as taking on your own city. You need to sleep sometime."

"Thanks mum!" Dick shot back.

"Don't make me sic Alfred on you." Tim warned.

Dick quickly thought. Would Tim make good on that threat? Yeah, probably. The kid was remarkably good at getting people to do what he wanted. It was part of the reason why Dick had started putting him in charge of Gamma.

Not wanting to risk the possible wrath of an enraged British butler, Dick folded, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of defeat.

"Ok, ok. I'll go get some rest." The older hero said, running a hand through his dark hair before shaking his head, trying to wake up.

"Goodnight Dick." Tim replied before cutting the connection, filling the screen with static.

Slowly standing up, Dick turned off the computer and turned away, starting on his way to his bed. Sure he felt like crap now, but it was nothing which couldn't be cured by a few hours' sleep, right?

* * *

This was it, Jason thought as he sat in the shadows, the morning light washing over the street and making think patches where light would not enter. The reason why he had come to this hell hole in the first place. The reason why he had lied to his little brother.

From his hiding space, Jason looked up at the home of one Roland Desmond, the scumbag who had placed a hit on the Red Hoods little brother. And what a hit it was.

Whatever Dick had done to piss off this guy, it must have been huge. The price on Dick's head was the second biggest Jason had ever seen, right after the one Lex Luthor once took out on Superman. Hell, even the Black Masks hit on Jason hadn't even come close (And admittedly, Jason was a little peeved at that one. Trust Dick to one-up him like that.)

But as Jason had learnt, the bigger the hit, the more people would pay attention. And the more bat shit insanity would go down in an attempt to claim the money.

To say Dick was in danger was an understatement.

So Jason had made packed up his things and made the long trip from the All Caste to Bludhaven, intent on breaking a few faces for his little brother. Ducra had been surprisingly supportive of Jason's choice, telling him that family was important. It was kind of strange, coming from the woman who had blocked every attempt Jason had ever made over the last few years to bring his brother for a visit. The woman had seemed to have some sort of grudge against the idea of Jason even having people he considered family outside of the All Caste so the sudden change of heart was odd. Jason would have to look into that.

But first things first, the vigilante needed dirt on Blockbuster. Something which he could use to ensure the big guy would leave his brother alone. And to do that, he needed to see what Blockbuster had which he could use to his advantage.

He had been watching the place carefully, noting the movement of the guards and the owner as he checked the silencer on his gun. Blockbuster's car had arrived early in the morning, dropping off its boss and his goons before the driver disappeared. But now, the car was once again parked out front, waiting for its owner.

A door opened. Under his helmet, Jason's eyes narrowed. The gangster stepping into the light. Quickly, Jason did the maths. He had the perfect angle for a shot. One shot was all that was needed to take the villain out and put an end to this. But how would Nightwing react? If Jason knew his brother, (which he did) he knew it would not end well. The kid had too good a heart and would probably take the death personally. Hell, he would probably try to twist the truth until the death became his fault. It was just something Dick did, taking the fall for others. It was cute in an annoying way.

The car pulled away from the building, taking Blockbuster to wherever the 8 foot freak of nature was going. Frankly, Jason didn't know and didn't really care, as long as he was gone.

Rising to his feet, Jason quickly scanned his surroundings before slipping deeper into the shadows. It was time to see what this Blockbuster was really about.

* * *

The man sat at his table, gazing off into the distance as calm music drifted through the air. The restaurant was beautiful, one of the finest Bludhaven had to offer, where the rich could forget about the depravity of their city and enjoy themselves.

It was also a welcome place for the wealthy newcomers to the town, much like the man seated. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit, his white hair swept back from his face to show a strong jaw and defined brow. However, unlike the other patrons, the waiters carefully avoided this table.

Despite the man's calm exterior, there was an undeniable atmosphere around him, a hint of unleashed power and danger shining in his single blue eye, which slowly swept across the room, searching.

Finally, the mercenary known to the world as Deathstroke spotted his target.

It wasn't the highest paying job for someone in Deathstrokes league. But then again, that was the whole point of being the best. He could pick and choose his jobs.

And it was more than one measly job which had enticed the notorious Slade Wilson to visit this city.

Rumours of a certain young bird nesting here had been the draw card. The same rumours which had seen the mercenary set up operations in both Gotham, and the unfortunately named Happy Harbour.

Across the room, Bludhaven's Police Inspector Soames lowered his menu, drumming his fingers. Quickly the cop looked around, like he was waiting for someone.

Slade honestly had no idea why the hit had been placed on this man, or even who had called for it. His employer had chosen to remain anonymous and as a rule, Slade never asked questions. But that still didn't stop him from tailing the man, interesting in learning all the man's weaknesses before he chose the method which he would use to dispatch him.

The man suddenly sat up, looking at something. Slade followed his gaze.

Ahhh! Of course.

Slade watched as Roland Desmond walked through the door, forcing a waitress to stumble back as she tried to make way for his huge frame.

The giant ignored her, making his way to the table.

Slade nodded to himself. He knew all about Desmond. The street thug who fancied himself as a crime boss because he could out-think a few goons. And it was well known that the inspector was in the drugged up villains pocket.

Desmond sat down in the seat opposite the Inspector. Even from across the room, Slade could hear the polished wood groan as it struggled under his weight. Reaching for his belt, the Mercenary pressed a small button hidden in the metal. Immediately, his hidden earpiece activated, picking up the conversation from the cleverly hidden speaker he had planted on the Inspectors table.

"Why do we have to talk here of all places?" The Inspector grumbled. "You know I don't trust these sorts."

Desmond let out a snort of laughter.

"You worry to be seen with me." He laughed. "But people who live in glass houses know not to throw stones. Everyone here has their own little secrets. Rest assured you are safe from the judgemental eyes of your colleges, even though they themselves have things to hide."

Inspector Soames rolled his eyes.

"What do you want from me Roland?" He questioned.

Desmond grinned again.

"I just wanted to tell you as a friend, that a certain annoyance will no longer be bothering us."

Soames blinked.

"You….you killed him?" He asked, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. But Slade had excellent hearing.

"Last night, I put the final nail in Nightwings coffin. As we speak, the boy's body is betraying him. I guarantee he will be dead by the end of the week and once again, we can go about our business unopposed."

Slade shot the pair a looks as Soames seemed to stutter.

"But…but what about….you know?" He jerked his head to the side.

"I have friends who have helped me cover my tracks. The Dark Knight will never know the part I played in his protégés demise."

Slade's single eye narrowed. He knew exactly who Desmonds 'friends' were. He had been in competition with them for a long time. And he was not going to let them win now.

Pulling the earpiece out of his ear, Slade slipped it into his pocket. Quickly, he rose to his feet, ignoring the looks of relief he received from the surrounding tables as many of the other patrons watched him. He would call his employers and tell them to go to hell. A certain little bird had once again caught his attention.

* * *

So, Deathstroke is on the scene. And if all goes well (and the characters decide to play the game), next chapter will show the plans he has for Nightwing and the Young Justice team. (After all, this is a YJ story. I do sort of need to include them) Until then.

Oh and just quickly, everyone keeps asking me why Jason hates Tim. I promise, there is going to be a reason for that which will be explained soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Two exams down. So to celebrate, I decided to take the afternoon off and investigate a new comic book store. I didn't buy any comics but I did end up getting a piece from the special DC Chess set. By complete chance, I got the right hand white bishop which happens to be Damian Wayne (I really wanted the left hand bishop, which is Dick, or Tim who was the left hand white knight but oh well). He's been sitting on my computer desk, bat-glaring at me while I write. It's a little unnerving. I may have to find a way to add him to the Outlaws verse so he stops. Or not. Not sure on that one.

Still, its great motivation to write.

* * *

'For a supposed criminal mastermind, Blockbuster sure has lax security.'

This was Jason thought as he made his way past the final camera and in through the unlocked window.

Two security guards, unconscious, bound and gagged (even if they were scum, Nightwing would never let him hear the end of it if he put a bullet in both their heads) and outside security cameras, now stuck on a rotation of old footage. They were so far under Jason's level of expertise; it almost made the Red Hood laugh. Almost.

Jason was well aware of who he was dealing with. Blockbuster owned half of Bludhaven. The lack of security here was not through idiocy, but through confidence. Perhaps misplaced (after all, Jason was in his house) but confidence none the less.

Jumping off the edge of the window, Jason quickly looked around. He was in a hallway on the second floor of the building. Tapestries and paintings lined the walls. A small table held what looked to be a very expensive vase. Even the carpet under Jason's mud covered boots was thick and expensive. The whole place screamed of over spending. This was not how rich people lived, but rather how less wealthy people thought the rich should live.

Jason may have only spent a part of his childhood at Wayne Manor, but he knew enough to know the difference. Bruce had never had vases or other expensive items just sitting out in the hallway. Apart from the fact that Jason would probably have broken them if he did, it just wasn't practical. Nor did he have overpriced carpets or (and Jason had to lean closer to get a better look) gold leaf painted into the door frames. Bruce's home was a place where people lived, not come to be impressed. No, there was a very different mindset at work here.

Even if he hadn't spent several days looking into Blockbusters case, Jason would have been able to guess the sort of person who lived here. Blockbuster was a man who had never had much growing up, who had struggled and who had been looked down on by his peers. This hall, hell, this whole house was a giant 'screw you' to everyone who had ever looked down on the now giant of a man. And that just made him a hell of a lot more dangerous.

Picking a direction at random, Jason began the search, opening doors and looking inside before moving onto the next. God, this place would be impossible to clean.

Following the hallway, Jason found himself at a set of double doors. He pushed them open.

Bingo.

Stepping inside, Jason quickly scanned the office. Like the rest of the house, this room was made to impress, the giant bookcases and fireplace all designed to draw an observers eye to the mahogany desk.

Stepping behind the desk, Jason quickly looked around. On the corner of the desk was a computer. Jason doubted it had ever been used. The whole device was covered in dust and given the size of the keyboard in comparison to the size of Blockbusters hands, probably more for show than anything else.

A pen was resting against an inkwell, again probably for show more than anything else.

However, the something did catch Jason's eye. The top draw if the desk was slightly open. Reaching forward, Jason pulled the heavy wood out, opening it to his clinical gaze. A box was sitting in the draw. Curious, Jason pulled the box out and placed it on the deck, flicking the lid open. A bio-hazard bag was jammed into the box, the plastic wrapped around something.

Pulling it out, Jason ignored the tinkle of glass as he unwrapped the bag. A small knife was resting in the bottom of the bag, several drops of blood smeared onto the plastic from the silver blade.

Jason studied it carefully. What the hell was it? Why would Blockbuster keep a bloody knife in his office? And in a bio-hazard bag of all things?

Wrapping the bag up again, Jason reached for the box, intent on putting the knife away and continuing his search. He stopped. In the bottom of the box was a small, empty bottle, a faded yellow label on it. Placing the knife on the desk, Jason reached for the bottle. He turned it over, trying to read the label. There were several words written in pencil which Jason could just make out in the light.

He read them. Then he shook his head, hardly believing what he was seeing. He read the label again.

Putting the bottle down slowly, Jason reached for his pocket. Thanks to Dick's nagging, Jason had taken to keeping a communicator on him at all times. Most of the time Jason forgot he even carried it. But now he needed to use it. Opening it, the Red Hood pressed in a number. He needed some information.

* * *

The grass was wet with dew under Tim's feet as the teenager made his way across the lawn of Wayne Manor. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered with this route, instead taking his normal path from his house to the manor through the emergency exit which Bruce had given him permission to use. But it was a nice Saturday morning and with both Bruce and his parents still out of town, Tim didn't see the need to rush.

Wayne Manor had beautiful gardens with hidden treasures all around. Dick had often played the tour guide, showing Tim all the places from his childhood, from the trees which Dick had used to climb onto the roof, to the small lake hidden on the west side of the ground. From the tree house which had been built during Bruce's childhood to the fountains where several generations of goldfish lived.

But Tim wasn't interested in any of those today. No, his wondering feet had taken him in a different direction, to the far corner of the grounds which housed the Wayne family cemetery.

Bruce's parents were buried here, marked by a polished white gravestone. It was here they rested, along with (Alfreds claim) approximately six generations of the Wayne family. And then there was the other one.

Bruce hadn't the heart to take it down, instead letting the stone stand out as a memorial. Tim looked down at the solid stone.

_Jason Todd_

_Ally & Friend_

There was no body under the earth, no casket or remains to speak of. No, this was a memorial to someone long gone but not yet dead.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Tim relaxed slightly, losing himself in his thoughts. Dick liked to talk about Jason, the older brother he hardly ever saw. Jason was a bit of an oddity, a legend in the batfamily. The first child Bruce had ever taken in, he had been headstrong and arrogant but in Bruce's own words, gifted. Jason's life and death had been used as a word of warning to both Dick and Tim, showing both heroes what happened when things went too far.

And yet, death hadn't changed Jason. As far as Tim could see from his brief meeting, the Red Hood was still arrogant and headstrong. And possibly manipulative.

Tim didn't know how Dick and Jason had gotten so close. Bruce wouldn't talk about it and Dick didn't have anything but good words to say. And to go to Jason would be suicide. And yet, there was a bond there. Something which connected the two, like the bond of brothers.

Sure, Tim had a similar relationship with Dick, but he had always had that underlying thought. Jason was there first.

Tim wasn't stupid. He knew that Jason didn't like him. Maybe it was because Tim was the new hero and another possible replacement. Maybe it was because Bruce now had to spread his attention between three of them. But in Tim's own mind it was far simpler. Dick liked Tim. Dick treated Tim like a little brother and lavished attention on him. Attention which Jason no longer had.

Tim suspected that, put simply; he was Jason's rival for Dick's attention. And Jason didn't like the competition.

Shaking his head, Tim turned away. He had dwelled too much on this.

Letting himself into the manor, Tim let his mind go through his mental check list. He had the day off from YJ, but that didn't mean much. If the transmissions were correct, the Justice Leagues trial was almost over and the senior members would soon be home.

Gotham had been busy in the last few weeks and despite the joint efforts of the three remaining members of the Batfamily, there was a lot of new information which needed to be filed.

Dick was in Bludhaven until the next YJ meeting on Sunday and Babs was entertaining her father so it had fallen to Tim to get a start on the reports for when Batman returned.

Thankfully, all three had managed to get the day off from the team, Nightwing handing the responsibilities of Den mother over to M'gann until he returned and with Impulse now on the team and Bumblebee finished her latest lot of lab work, both Robin and Batgirl were able to take a much needed break.

Stepping into the Batcave, Tim pulled his jacket off. He looked over at his locker, where one of his costumes was kept. For a moment he debated whether to put it on before deciding against it. He had his utility belt tucked under his shirt and a spare mask in his back pocket. If Robin was needed at such short notice, he still had the basics to go.

Sitting at the computer, Tim turned it on.

Babs had handed in a quick report on Ivy before she had left. Checking over it, Tim made a few small adjustments before sending it to Ivy's file and adding the incident report. Bruce would like to know what had happened in his city while he was away.

With a sigh, Tim got to work, pulling up information and sorting it into the correct files. There was the shipment of fire arms Tim and Dick had intercepted the week before, a couple of tips passed down from an informer the Batfamily sometimes used, there was the rumours that Black Mask was about to make a move. There was Catwomans sudden visit and the need to find out how she knew Batman was missing. There was information about the team's recent troubles with Impulses appearance, La'gaans capture and Artemis' death.

Tim had to fight back tears on that last one. He had liked Artemis. The female archer was one of the first heroes Dick had introduced him to after he had taken the mantel and the memories of her needless death still hurt, like a blow to the chest. And Tim hadn't even known her for that long. He couldn't even imagine how the older members like Wally were dealing with it.

Leaning forward in his seat, Tim started his work, intent on blocking the painful memories with work.

The screen flashed before fading, the bat symbol replacing Tim's work, telling the Boy Wonder that someone was trying to call. He looked at the displayed number. It wasn't any Tim recognised, but it had the code of a Bat communicator. Quickly pulling his mask out of his pocket, Tim reached for the controls and activated the screen. Under his now fixed mask, Tim blinked as the red helmet came into focus.

"You?" Jason said in an accusing tone. "What the hell are you still doing there?"

Tim opened his mouth. He closed it again, unsure how to respond. After all, how did one respond to someone like Jason.

"Listen kid, go and fetch Bats or one of the other adults. I need to talk to them." The vigilante continued.

Tim felt his face go red. He hated being treated like a child, especially by someone like the Red Hood.

"Well, it seems that you didn't get the memo. He's off planet." Tim shot back.

"Well what about Wings?" Jason asked. He didn't really want to ask Dick, knowing his little brother would want to know what he was doing in Blockbusters house. He shook away that thought. He needed information fast.

"After all, he spends enough time in Bat's shadow when he's not tramping around that hell holes Bludhaven." He added.

"Not here." Tim replied.

"Dammit! Well, doesn't Bruce have a communicator or something?"

Tim paused, wishing he hadn't put his mask on so Jason could see the dirty look he was currently giving him.

"What is it about off planet you don't understand?"

"Don't be a smart-ass kid. There isn't enough room in this family for another one." The older boy snapped. He sighed. "Well, I guess you are going to have to help me with this."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I am going to help you with anything?" The teen asked.

"You're going to help me kid, or I will make your life unbearable." The Red Hood replied.

Tim thought hard. He really wanted this conversation to be over. He sighed in defeat.

"Fine, what do you want?"

"Finally" Jason muttered just within Tim's hearing. "I was looking into a case and I found a bloody knife in a bio-hazard bag and a bottle marked _'Solution of Ricinus Communis'._ What is that?"

Tim fell silent, thinking hard. Ricinus Communis. He had heard of that before. He thought hard. Where had he heard those words? Then it hit him.

"Ricinus Communis. That's Ricin. It's a highly toxic poison. It's often used in assassination attempts, because even a small dose can be fatal. We learnt about it in history class."

There was silence as Jason seemed to digest this piece of information. Finally he spoke, his words soft and surprised.

"You learnt about a poison in history class? You go to a messed up school kid." He muttered.

Tim thought for a moment about telling Jason about the historic case study but decided against it. Instead, he turned to the obvious question.

"Jason, where are you?"

"What do you care?" Jason snapped back.

"You have a bloodied knife and a vile of poison. That means some poor person has already been dosed with this stuff and probably only has hours to live. I don't know about you, but I would really like to know who owns this stuff so I can figure out who was their target."

Jason opened his mouth, ready to tell the youngest Batbrat to shove it. Then he stopped. He was in Blockbusters house. And who was Blockbusters biggest enemy? Who had the drug lord recenty taken a huge hit out on?

"Hey kid, do you know how to do a DNA test?" He asked.

Tim looked at him. Despite what the younger boy thought, Jason did know how to read facial expressions. The young bird was confused.

"Yes. Why?" He asked.

Under his helmet, Jason chewed his bottom lip.

"I'm coming to the cave. ETA is one hour. Try and contact Nightwing. Red Hood out." He said before cutting the link.

The screen went black, leaving Tim to blink in confusion.

* * *

Ok, so Ricin is a real poison. I stumbled on it while playing on Google and since all the symptoms match up, I decided to use it. It was either that or make something up, and I am really bad at making those sort of things up.

Although there are many cases in history where ricin has been used in an assassination, the case study I was reading (and therefore imagine Tim was studying) was the case of Georgi Markov.

Also, I am not sure if the conversation between Jason and Tim was in character. Their interaction has always been difficult to write, and I've never written them during their earlier meetings. My other attempt in 'A Renegade Knight' was more based on their later years. Still, this is how I learn.


	4. Chapter 4

Should be studying, should be studying, should be studying...screw it. I'm procrastinating instead. What can I say. Cliffhangers work both ways.

* * *

"What kind of idiot decides to attack Happy Harbour?" Beast Boy asked as he shifted into his human form to balance on the beam running through the roof.

"And in the morning of all times. Don't criminals need to sleep?" Blue Beetle added, yawning slightly as he hovered next to the shape shifter.

"You would be surprised." Superboy replied, as he joined the younger heroes. He looked around. "Where's Impulse?"

"Don't know, don't really care." Blue Beetle said. "Hey, has anyone noticed that the speedster is a bit of a scatter brain?"

"What? Like you?" Beast Boy shot back. He liked the speedster, even if the rest of the team was finding it difficult to work with him.

"Hey!" Blue replied. He paused, looking off into the distance. "What? No I'm not! …..Shut up!"

Beast Boy glanced at Superboy, sending the team leader a confused look.

"Just leave it." The Boy of Steel replied, looking down at the building below. "And don't worry about Impulse. He'll turn up. He always does."

The three fell silence, watching for any movement. Slowly, Superboy raised his hand to his ear, activating his comm.

"Alpha squad to Cave." He said. "We are in position. But it's very quiet down here. Are you sure the readings are correct?"

The comm buzzed slightly.

"Roger that Superboy. The readings are coming from your position." Mal said through the comm, watching the team from his computer in the Cave.

"You know, you still haven't told us exactly what sort of readings we are supposed to be looking for." Beast Boy said. The young hero pulled a face and wrapped his arms around his body.

He hated being on duty. Sure, back with the Titans, he had been on call 24/7, but so had the rest of the team. They were all in it together. But here it was erratic. Beast Boy couldn't wrap his head around the changes.

Sometimes he wondered why he had left the Titans. Sure it was great working with Megan and Rob…sorry, Nightwing. And the rest of the team were really nice too. Superboy and Robin were both like kickass older brothers and Impulse and the rest were kind of awesome too. Even Blue had a certain entertainment value to him. But Beast Boy missed hanging out with his old team, challenging Cyborg to video games and arguing about the superiority of tofu over meat, annoying Raven by trying to get her to join his video games nights and being energetic with Star. Hell, he even missed pranking Robin, back when his leader was a grumpy teen instead of an adult.

The green hero shook his head. He had promised himself that he would continue on with the team and he was going to keep that promise. And hey, if he did get too homesick for Jump City, it was only a Zeta Tube visit away.

Superboy was talking again. Beast Boy turned his head. He refused to be left out of the conversation.

"Two hours ago, the Caves sensors registered a large influx of chronoton particles at this exact spot." The team leader said.

"What?" Beast Boy asked, turning to stare at Superboy.

"Chronoton….particles?" Blue Beetle butted in. "What are those."

Superboy opened his mouth. He didn't understand the exact science but he would do his best to explain. The science of time travel was not an easy concept to understand.

"Dangerous." Beast Boy butted in. He looked over at Superboy. "Has someone called Rob….I mean Nightwing yet?"

Superboy blinked.

"What do you know?" he asked, turning to look at Beast Boy. The green hero looked down at the ground.

"Just bad things." He muttered.

Superboy continued to stare for a moment before looking back down.

"I'm going down for a closer look. Stay here." He said.

Leaping off the beam, the hero went into free fall, allowing gravity to drag him down to the ground. A light shot through the air, hitting the Boy of Steel in the chest. The blast threw the kryptonian into the wall, the crash echoing through the building.

"What was that?" Blue Beetle asked, looking around wildly. Beast Boy narrowed his eyes, looking toward the sight of the blast.

A figure was standing on a lower walkway. Slowly, it looked up at the two heroes, shadows giving way to a mask of orange and black. Beast Boy felt his blood go cold.

"No!" He muttered.

"What?" Blue Beetle asked as the figure raised its weapon.

Changing into a monkey, Beast Boy ducked out of the way as the laser shot past his head. A shout from behind him suggested that Blue had only narrowly avoided the laser himself.

"What that…." Blue called.

"Get Superboy!" Beast Boy shouted, briefly changing back into his human shape, his eyes fixed on the mercenary. Below him, Slade turned and started to run. "Oh no you don't."

Changing into a cheetah, Beast Boy jumped from the beam, landing on the walkway as he gave chase.

The villain didn't seem to care about the hero chasing him, grabbing the railing and throwing himself off the edge. Beast Boy followed him down, morphing into a hawk to slow his fall as he dived at the villains head.

Slade turned suddenly, fist lashing out and hitting him. Beast Boy found himself thrown down, changing back into his human form as he hit the ground. He gave a small groan as a shadow fell over him.

"Well, this is a surprise." Slade said, looking down at the fallen hero.

"Slade." Beast Boy spat, looking up at the man who had attempted to make his life as a Titan a living hell. "What do you want?"

Slade was silent, seemingly studying the hero at his feet.

"I could tell you. But I am sure you wouldn't like the answer." Beast Boy could almost hear the smirk hidden under the villains mask.

"If this is about Terra, Raven or Robin again, then you can go to hell!" Beast Boy shouted. The teenager morphed into a gorilla, lashing out at the villain. But Slade had seen this trick before, ducking out of the way of the giant fist.

"Beast Boy!" A voice shouted.

Beast Boy turned as Blue landed, one arm supporting Superboy, the other formed into a cannon and aimed at the villain. The weapon fired but Slade was faster, ducking out of the way.

Ducking past the gorilla, Superboy rushed at their new enemy, fists raised. Something dropped from the villain's hand, hitting the ground with a metallic sound. Smoke appeared, clouding both the villain and the Boy of Steel. Beast Boy felt a hand try to pull him up. He looked at Blue Beetle.

"Dude! Can you try not being so heavy next time?" Blue grunted as he tried to pull the gorilla to his feet. Beast Boy morphed back, looking around wildly at the rising smoke as a hand steadied him.

"Where are Superboy and Slade?" He asked as the smoke surrounded him. Somewhere in the thick wall, the two heroes heard a grunt and a loud thud, like someone hitting the ground.

"I don't know who Slade is, but I think Superboy got that guy." Blue grinned, looking down at Beast Boy. The green hero didn't smile back.

The smoke started to rise, revealing a black and red figure on the ground.

"No way!" Blue muttered as the two heroes stared down at an unconscious Superboy. A green stone was resting on the Boy of Steels chest. Blue rushed forward and kicked it away as Beast Boy looked around wildly.

"Where is he?" He asked.

Footsteps drew the two teenager's attention. They turned. A figure stepped through the smoke behind them. The two heroes stepped back towards Superboy as Slade appeared. Another figure stepped forward, joining him. This one was wearing a fully black mask, an orange circle where its forehead should be. Beast Boy knew exactly what this was.

"Sladebots." He muttered, making Blue glance at him.

Both heroes turned as more robots appeared. They were surrounded.

Raising his arm, Blue allowed it to morph into a gun. He looked back over at Beast Boy who had morphed into a woolly mammoth.

"Wow! I didn't know you could do that!" The armoured hero gasped.

Beast Boy ignored him, charging at the nearest figure. The figure fell, crushed under Beast Boys feet to reveal nothing but a pile of twisted metal. Beast Boy didn't bother to think, instead turning to the next figure and wrapping his trunk around it.

Picking up the robot, Beast Boy raised it over his head, aiming it at the next one.

The standing robot disappeared suddenly. Beast Boy blinked before throwing the robot at the wall, letting it smash against the solid wall. He looked over. It seemed that Blue was also having the same problem, the robots disappearing even as he aimed at them. A red blur passed beside him, making Blue stumble. The blur hit another robot before slowing down, Impulse skidding to a halt.

"Diiiidddd you miss me?" He grinned.

Beast Boy allowed himself to return to his normal form, glancing over at the last figure. Slade hadn't moved through the whole battle, arms crossed as he watched with interest.

Beast Boy growled, ready to fight. Suddenly Impulse rushed forward, arms raised.

Taken by surprise, Slade didn't have time to move as the speedster ran past, reaching out. Impulse slowed down, turning with a grin on his face. He held up an orange and black mask.

"Souvenir!" He called, proudly showing his prize.

Slade turned to face the rest of the group. Beast Boy groaned. He should have known. Instead of a face, a screen had been hidden under the mask.

"That is not fair!" Blue Beetle gasped as he walked to Beast Boy's side. The robot looked up at the two heroes, the figure on the screen covered by shadows.

"What's your game Slade?" Beast Boy shouted.

Beside him, Blue blinked.

"Wait, that's Slade? How do you know that?" Blue asked.

"We've met before, back with the Titans." Beast Boy stated.

On the screen, Slade laughed.

"Good memories." The villain stated.

"Oh yeah? Well remember this!" A voice said from behind the group. Beast Boy blinked as Superboy appeared, charging toward the robot. His fist connected with the screen, smashing through it and appearing out the back of the robots head. The Boy of Steels other fist grabbing hold of the neck and breaking it apart. Still enraged, the kryptonian threw the robot across the room.

There was a moment of silence before Impulse spoke up.

"Wow. Way to crash the mode SB." He said, grinning.

Superboy glared at him. Seeing the danger, Blue Beetle stepped in.

"Maybe we should regroup back at the cave." He suggested.

"What about the chronoton particles?" Impulse asked.

The rest of Alpha team looked at him.

"What? Even I know that's bad news." The speedster replied.

"There are no chronoton particles." Beast Boy replied.

The three heroes looked over at the shape shifter. The green hero had made his way over to the broken robot and was looking down at it.

"We need to get back to the cave and contact Nightwing right now!" He said, turning away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alpha team arrived back at the cave, greeted by Wonder Girl.

"Hey!" She called, hovering in the air. "How did it go?"

Blue Beetle shrugged.

"Good….I think." He replied, his armour melting from his body as he turned to give the rest of his team mates a confused look. Superboy had been watching Beast Boy carefully through the whole trip back. Even now, the Boy of Steel was watching the shape shifter.

"I got a souvenir." Impulse suddenly said, holding up the mask. The speedster suddenly disappeared, heading to the display room and passing Miss Martian on the way. The green girl looked over before floating towards the group. Her smile faded when she saw the looks on both Beast Boy and Superboys faces.

"Garfield?" She asked.

Beast Boy jumped slightly.

"Nightwing! I need to warn him." He gasped.

He rushed forward. A hand caught his arm, pulling him back.

"Wait!" Superboy ordered. "How do you know that guy? And how did you know the chronotons were fake?"

Beast Boy bit his lip as more team members entered the room. Apart from the Bats and the Arrows, everyone was present. Slowly, the shape shifter looked up at the Boy of Steel, ignoring the crowd.

"Back when I was with the Titans, he was our number one villain. One day, he used a fake chronoton detonator to distract us and ended up kidnapping Rob…. I mean Nightwing."

Over Beast Boys head, Megan and Conner shared a look. They had known Nightwing for most of his life, yet they had never heard this before.

"So who is he? And what does he want?" Wonder Girl asked.

"He's a monster. And as to what he wants, I don't know. But I don't trust it. Slade is evil and he can get to anyone. He manipulated one of our friends, Terra to turn against us and he once managed to get hallucinogenic dust onto one of his old masks which Nightwing had been keeping in the tower. It almost killed him."

"On one of his masks?" Superboy asked.

Beast Boy nodded.

"Like the mask Impulse just brought into the Mountain?" The Boy of Steel questioned.

"Yeah….oh."

"Hey guys!" Impulse called, joining the rest of the team.

The lights suddenly flickered, catching the group's attention. The sound of doors automatically sealing were loud for a moment before everything fell silent. The room went black. The silence stretched on. Finally, Impulse spoke up.

"Ok. That was totally not my fault."

* * *

Ok, so Nightwing was suppose to appear in this chapter, but I decided to go more indepth with Beast Boys interaction with Slade and ended up not not having enough time if I want to study at all tonight. That is, if the plot bunnies will leave me alone for long enough. Finally got my hands on the final issue of the Night of Owls story arch and ideas are latching onto my brain. Don't be surprised if some of it ends up in later chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

So, I am finally back. I've had a rotten few weeks but finally have time to relax and write.

I just want to say something and I know this only applies to one person but I don't have any other way of getting it out there. To the Anonymous who sent me those nasty comments, next time have the guts to use a real penname. Don't hide behind the Guest tag to try and avoid me. Yes, I did get rid of your comment. Do I care about what you said. No. If you have issues with my story, don't read it. No one is making you.

To everyone else, I am sorry I am taking out my anger here. It just makes me so upset that people think they can cut someone down because they have different ideas. And I am sorry if a little of that anger comes out in this chapter.

* * *

A few years ago, when Dick had been 14, the then Boy Wonder had come down with a severe case of the flu which had hit him like a tonne of bricks. One day he was fine, the next he was almost an invalid, unable to keep food or fluids down or even function without the help of Alfred or Bruce. So severe had the virus been, that Dick had been hospitalised in Gotham General for over a week.

Waking up that morning to the high pitched sound of his communicator, Dick felt like he had suddenly caught the virus again. Shivers wracked his body even as to his own hands, his skin felt hot. His head was spinning and his stomach turning like a live animal was inside him. Every muscle was stiff and aching. But the worst flare of pain was from his injured side. It may have been the teen's imagination, but it felt like the knife was still imbedded in his chest, every movement increasing the pain.

Stumbling to his feet, Dick ignored the communicator as he tried to focus, to fight the conflicting instincts to both stop moving and to race to the bathroom before he lost the fight with his own stomach.

The second instinct won out, the hero half racing, half falling as he headed to the bathroom and almost fell into the bathtub with a shout, the hard porcelain catching his injured side.

Pain sent black spots racing past Dick's eyes even as he lost the fight with his own stomach and emptied his last meal into the tub. Chocking slightly, Dick grabbed the tap and used it to hold his body out of the tub as he fought to remain conscious.

Finally, after what felt like hours of chocking, Dick started drawing a breath, trying to fill his lungs. His chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped their arms around him and was squeezing.

Grabbing hold of the sink, Dick ignored the warning feeling in his stomach as he lent forward, resting his sweaty forehead against the mirror and closed his eyes as he continued to fight for breath. His whole body shuddered, muscles protesting to the sudden movement. Tightening his grip on the mirror, Dick opened his eyes and looked at the refection. He looked terrible, face pale and drawn and eyes bloodshot.

Wracking his brain, Dick tried to think. He felt so slow, like he was trying to solve a complex case after a week with no sleep. Clearly, he was ill. But he honestly couldn't think of what to do about it.

Almost absentmindedly, he rubbed a hand across his chest. Pain made him gasp again. Blinking, he looked down.

The white bandage from the night before as no longer white, instead spots of blood and sweat had left it an unattractive shade of yellow.

Reaching down, Dick carefully pulled the edge of the bandage away, wincing slightly as it stuck to his skin. After a few soft tugs, the material fell away.

The neat black stiches were still as Dick had left them, holding the wound closed. The wound itself was swollen, putting pressure on the stiches. It was nothing Dick hadn't expected. However, the edge of the wound was a strange blue-green colour, almost like as bruise. The colour spread across Dick's skin in lines. Reaching down, Dick brushed his fingers across the blue skin before biting back a yelp of pain.

Returning his hand to grip the sink, Dick took a deep breath. Something was wrong with him. If he didn't know otherwise, if he hadn't done all the correct things to avoid it, Dick would have thought he was suffering from some sort of blood poisoning.

Again, the former Boy Wonder tried to think. His brain felt like it was full of fog but slowly, a plan started to form. If he was suffering from Blood Poisoning (and given his symptoms, that sounded more and more likely) then he need help. He didn't have the equipment to help himself in Bludhaven and unless he wanted to check himself into the local hospital and answer all those awkward questions, he needed to get home. The cave would have everything Dick needed to treat himself.

Pushing himself away from the sink, Dick looked around and immediately regretted it as his head started to spin. He closed his eyes and waited for the feeling to subside before he started to walk forward. Briefly he thought about calling someone and asking them to come and collect him. But Bruce was off world, Alfred was off doing whatever it was he did when he was not looking after Bruce, Tim didn't have a license (Well, not one that could get him out of trouble with Gotham PD), Babs was with her father and wouldn't be happy at the interruption and Jason was god only knows where. Dick didn't even bother to think of the rest of the team.

No, Dick would just have to make his own way home.

* * *

Tim didn't know why as he waited for Jason to arrive, but he was starting to worry. Maybe it was something about the older man's tone but it had put the young hero on edge. Something wasn't right in Jason's world and Tim could only feel that the Red Hood would spread that trouble around, most likely to Tim himself.

As Jason had ordered, Tim had pulled up all the symptoms of Ricin poisoning and tried to contact Dick but hadn't been able to get through, the middle child of the batfamily not picking up either his mobile phone or his communicator. Slightly worried, Tim had pulled on his sunglasses and contacted Mount Justice but again, he had failed to get though.

The young hero had checked the connections and found that nothing was wrong on his end. That could only mean that connections in the Mountain were down. Briefly, Tim had thought about heading to the Zeta tube and going to either Bludhaven or Happy Harbour to see what was going on but then he had thought better of it. If something was happening, someone would have to be in the cave. If nothing was going on, then leaving the cave would be stupid.

An engine sounded at the entrance of the cave. From his place at the computer, Tim turned and watched as the bike coasted up the ramp, stopping next to the Batmobile. It was a red and black custom Harley, made to look faster and even more powerful than it already was. Made to look like death on two wheels.

The rider rose from his seat, reaching up and pulling the helmet off his head. Tim rolled his eyes. He may only have really known Jason by reputation and a brief 10 minute talk with Dick hanging over his shoulder but he could spot dramatics a mile off as the older man brushed his hair away from the red mask across his eyes. Jason placed the red helmet on the edge of the bike before making his way around the machine, his boots landing heavily on the metal gantry. He didn't look pleased.

Tim turned back to the computer and the boots drew closer. A bag was dropped at the teen's elbow, the metal inside it hitting the table with a sharp thud. Tim looked down.

Jason hadn't been lying. Here was the evidence which had sparked Jason's return. A small knife sealed in a biohazard bag, drops of blood clinging to the corners of the plastic. Picking it up, Tim studied the knife. Another small thud came from his elbow. Tim looked down at the gloved hand which held the glass bottle. He glanced up at Jason as the older man towered over him. Clearly Jason didn't have any notion of personal boundaries. Or at least for people he didn't like.

"Personal space." Tim said pointedly.

"Stop you're complaining replacement and do your damn job!" Jason shot back. But to be fair, he did back away.

Tim blinked in surprise. Quickly, he collected the bag and climbed to his feet. The teen hero turned and made his way to the medical lab to prepare the sample as Jason fell into his seat, the older hero pulled the keyboard closer and started to type.

After a few minutes, Tim returned from the medical bay, sample prepared and already being analysed by the computer. Jason had managed to pull up his own criminal file any was typing out something. His communicator was open on and resting on the keyboard. Tim rolled his eyes.

"You know, Bruce doesn't like it when people mess with his files." He commented.

Jason didn't turn around.

"Bruce also doesn't like it when I sabotage his cases. That never stopped me before."

Tim opened his mouth but then closed it. There was no arguing with Jason and Tim could already see that the only way to survive this was by avoiding all conflict. In front of him, Jason reached for his open communicator and looked down at it. He seemed to think for a moment before closing it, smashing it down on the desk.

"Dammit Wings." He muttered, just within Tim's hearing.

Tim sighed and looked around, at anything other than Jason. He was not really comfortable around Jason. Hell, how did you get comfortable around someone who had decided to hate you on sight?

In the medical bay, the computer pinged, letting both boys know that the DNA test was complete. Tim stepped forward as Jason pushed the seat back, the older man looking up into the gloom of the caves roof. Tim ignored him, typing in the commands to bring the data to the main computer. Slowly, he looked up.

"Oh no." The teen muttered. Leaning forward, he rested his hands on the desk as he tried to wrap his head around this new development.

Jason didn't move, his eyes still glued to the roof.

"It's Dickie-bird, isn't it?" The former hero asked.

Tim closed his eyes, letting his head drop. The teen took a deep breath before nodding.

Slowly, both young bats looked up at the computer screen.

"It's a slow active poison. He still has time." Tim muttered as unpleasant statistics of his earlier research crossed his mind.

In a matter of seconds, Jason was on his feet.

"Still time to find him and teach him not to accept knives from stranger men."

* * *

Torches flashed in the dark, a line of glow sticks placed strategically around the room to light Mel's progress, the team's tactical support buried behind the wires of his computer. After a few minutes of contemplation, he selected a few wires, pushing them into the available sockets.

"Ok. Try that." He called.

At the computer, Karen nodded and pressed a few buttons. She looked up at the black screen.

"Still nothing Baby." She called.

Mal sighed and tunnelled deeper into the depths of the computer, tearing out wires as he went.

On the other side of the room, Cassie slammed her fist into the floor, leaving a crack in the concrete. She was seated on the ground next to Conner and Bart, the former staring into the gloom while the latter looked down at his feet, his shoulders slumped.

"How could we be so stupid?" She growled. "Letting an enemy sneak a trap into the cave like that."

Soft footsteps drew closer as Jaime walked over, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. Detangling one hand, he patted Barts shoulder before lowering himself to the floor.

"It's all of our faults. We encouraged the Souvenir Room. We should have guessed that someone would use it against us." The hero said as he made himself comfortable, picking up a glow stick and shaking it.

Cassie slowly clasped her hands together as Conner nodded in agreement.

"Try it again." Mal called from the computer. Nothing happened.

"No computer, no Zeta Tubes, not even phone reception." Cassie grumbled. "I feel like a rat, trapped in a hole."

"At least you're not trapped in a confined area." Bart muttered.

Conner glanced over at him.

"Are you claustrophobic?" The Boy of Steel asked.

"I'm a speedster. I need room to move." Bart replied. "All the doors are locked and I can't run." The speedster breathing increased.

"I know for a fact that you have been in tight places before. How come this has never come up?" Jaime noted.

Conner glared at him as Bart started to shake. Cassie shuffled forward, wrapping her arms around Barts shaking frame.

Still, Bart soldiered on.

"I've always been on missions and never had to think about it. But now I can't stop thinking." The speedster said. Turning, he buried his face against Cassie's neck, clinging to her.

In the corner of the room, something moved. Conner looked over at it. Climbing to his feet, he glanced over at Cassie and Jaime.

"Keep him calm." He said as he turned away, walking into the dark.

M'gann had just solidified her form as Conner walked over, Garfield's monkey form jumping off her shoulder and phasing back into his human form.

"We got the mask." Garfield said, grabbing it as M'gann started to hold it up. With an impressive turn of speed, he bolted towards the computer.

M'gann turned to follow her brother but Conner blocked her. Her eyes met his.

"I need a favour." He said.

* * *

Dick was certain he was starting to hallucinate, the road to Gotham stretching out before his bike as much a mental challenge as it was a physical challenge for the injured hero. Ok, maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe he should have called Tim or Babs or someone to help him. But he had left his communicator back in his apartment. There was no turning back now.

Dick had pulled his costume and mask on under his riding jacket and helmet but even the knowledge of that extra layer of protection was not enough to really help him.

A light flashed in the corner of Dick's vision before disappearing just as suddenly. Dark figures were moving on the side of the road before vanishing. This was bad. This was really bad.

There was a figure on the road. There was a Figure on the road!

Dick had only moments to note the flash of orange before his instincts kicked in, the young hero turning the bike out of the way. The bike overbalanced, Dick's back taking most of the impact as the bike was knocked from under him.

The teenage hero rolled several metres across the hard ground before finally coming to a jarring stop.

The teenager gasped, trying to fight back a shout of pain. He tried to stand, to move. Something crunched by his ear. Fighting another shout of pain, the teenager tried to turn his head and peer through the scratched visor of his helmet. A pair of black combat boots was resting by his head.

Slowly, Dick looked up. A single eye looked down at him.

"Hello little bird." Slade said.

* * *

Again, sorry if a little of my anger came out in this chapter. Just upset I guess.

As for the effects of Ricin, I got them from a health website. According to the site, the first stage of Ricin poisoning by injection is a lot like the flu, followed by low blood pressure and hallucinations as well as pain and discolouring at the site. Never seen it, never want to see it, so I am just going by what the website says.


	6. Chapter 6

So, I know a lot of people probably want to kill me right now, and I am certain the 'writers block' excuse no longer flies, seeing as how long it took to get this uploaded. Which is why I am submitting this chapter as a sacrifice to the gods of fanfiction (aka, the readers) and then I plan to run like hell. Bye.

* * *

Slade had to admit, he had almost been disappointed in Nightwing. The young hero had been almost stupidly easy to find, making no efforts to hide his tracks as he tried to retreat to Gotham and the Bat's protection. But then again, that could be the effects of the poisons coursing through the kids veins.

It certainly made capturing the kid easier, the teen hero convincing himself that his arch-enemy was nothing more than a figment of his imagination before succumbing to his injuries and passing out at the villains feet.

Sensing that the boy didn't have much time left, Slade worked fast, moving the kid into his newest secret hideout and carefully securing him, the mercenary's mind working to its full ability to identify the poison and begin treatment. Drawing blood, he quickly set a computer to begin a scan, looking for foreign contaminants.

While the kid's blood was being scanned for odd compounds, Slade had made his new guest comfortable, disabling the safety measures of the boy's suit and removing all the hidden weaponry, belt and gloves included, before strapping the kid to the bed and rolling up one of his skin tight sleeves, inserting an IV. Gripping the middle of the suit, he had pulled it up to reveal the teen's bandaged chest and the knife wound which the kid had worked hard to hide. Only then, after cutting away the bandages and examining the injury, did he feel comfortable enough to turn his back on the kid, collecting the compounds he might just need, should the poison in the kids blood prove to be too damaging or too advanced.

Deathstroke was a man of iron clad will. He had noticed this boy's talents many years before and become like a man possessed, determined to take those talents and mould them into something which he could use. He refused to lose because of the 'Light', even if it meant doing something drastic to keep the boy alive. Even if it meant keeping the boy imprisoned for a long time, eventually, the boy would turn and together, they would destroy the 'heroes', the 'Light' and anyone else who stood in their way.

Placing a small vial down by the IV stand, Slade turned back to his new possession. So many times he had seen this boy in action, working either with or against him. He knew, better than any of the boys 'friends', better than his 'brother', possibly even better than his so called 'father' what the boy was capable of doing, how far the kid was willing to go to do what needed to be done.

It had helped that Slade had long since uncovered the boy's secret identity, even before they had fought against each other for the first time. He had taken interest in the Bats of Gotham long before the boy had been on the scene, first while trying to claim the bounty on the head of Bruce Wayne and realising he was the Bat and then when the tough talking street kid Jason Todd had joined the Bats side. He knew the kids backstory, a circus boy, taken in by a lonely billionaire who was still in mourning for a dead street orphan. He knew how the young boy, Richard Grayson, had been trained to become an unstoppable fighting force. He knew how Bruce Wayne, the Batman, had pushed the boy to his very limits before carefully reeling him in again, keeping him from reaching that little bit further, keeping him under control. So well had it worked, that even when the boy had been replaced with his successor (Who, although he didn't have any proof, Slade was convinced was the kid next door, Timothy Drake), the boy didn't rebel.

So under control, it seemed that the boy couldn't break away anymore. So used to being controlled, to being forced to lessen his blows and kicks, so used to living in fear of harming those who would harm him that the boy seemed unable to fight back anymore, to be anything more than the Batman's pet.

But no more. Of course, at first Slade would have to take total control of the boy, dictating everything in his life in order to prevent him from fleeing back to his prison. But slowly, as the teen stopped fighting and started to accept his new life, Slade would give him back control, letting the little bird once again fly. And once the boy realised how controlled his former life had been, he would celebrate Slade's gift and finally reach his potential.

Checking the IV line once more, Slade turned to the computer, looking at the image displayed on the screen. Everything looked normal. Slightly elevated insulin levels and for some reason, a high concentration of some sort of metal compound. And then…Oh.

Slade did not like poisons. He rarely used them himself and then, only as a protective measure. To him as a professional, there was something dis-honourable, even weak about killing someone with a poison. The mercenary had his own code and always approved of giving his targets a fighting chance. It was why people like Bruce Wayne were still around. They had earned their rights to live. But poisons cheated. There was no class to a poisoner. It was a low and dis-honourable trade.

But despite all that, Slade had excellent knowledge of various poisons. After the number of attempts on his own life, it had made sense. Luckily he knew enough about this poison. Ricin.

Despite Slade's earlier comments, he knew that Nightwing wasn't stupid. The boy wouldn't blindly expose himself to the poison. There would have to have been some other way the exposer had occurred.

Slade's single eye fell to the knife wound. It was two, maybe three days old at least. A perfect way to get the poison into the teenager's body. But it was risky as well. Although only a small dose of the poison was needed to be fatal, trying to get an effective dosage into the wound would be tricky. A fatal cut would be very difficult, even for a highly skilled assassin and a knife was certainly not the best tool to administer it. Added to that, the victim's skills as first-aid and it seemed unlikely that the poison itself would kill Nightwing. No, it was the symptoms of the poison which would need to be treated. The symptoms which could do the most damage.

Nightwing had been delirious when Slade had first found him, the teen's insane attempt at getting back to Gotham almost turning into a death sentence. Added to that the fact that the kid was showing signs of serious dehydration and involuntary muscle spasms, and Slade couldn't help but worry about the young bird.

Hooking a fluid bag to the IV, Slade opened the line. That should go a way to helping treat the dehydration and hopefully the nutrients would help ease the spasms. A shot of anti-biotic would hopefully help clean the wound and was added to the formula via the line. Another syringe was collected, this one placed away from the line. Adrenalin, in case something went wrong.

The first vial was retrieved and placed next to the adrenalin. This was not a substance found in a hospital. Hell, this substance had never been used in any form of medical procedure before. Of the people who had used it, only one had escaped with his life. But still, it was placed near the injured boy.

With a sigh, Slade turned to once again examine the young hero. 48 hours. That was all he needed to ensure the heroes survival. If Nightwing survived for another 48 hours, then he had beaten the poison and Slade could being the process of strengthening him, training him and once again turning him into what he was meant to be all along. He looked down at the vial again. It was his failsafe. Reaching over, he picked up the glass again, looking at it.

Slade had always planned to use this substance on Nightwing eventually. But if he had to use it sooner than expected, then so be it. He was not losing this fight.

* * *

Tim couldn't help but think he had broken some kind of record, putting his costume on that fast. Jason of course, hadn't been any help, already making to leave the cave as Tim had grabbed the uniform and ducked into a shadow to change. The younger bat had only just managed to jump onto the back of the Red Hoods bike before the vigilante was gunning the motor into life and speeding out of the cave, not caring if his little brother was safely on or not.

Tim had to admit, he had no idea what Jason's plan was. The moment Dick's name had popped up on the screen, the older man had been on his feet and moving. Tim had heard softly muttered death threats and little else as Jason had headed into Batman's armoury, pocketing as many pieces of equipment as he could. Realising what was about to happen, Tim had run for his costume, ignoring the feral sound from Jason when the older bat realised what Tim was doing.

But Dick was as much Tim's brother as he was Jason's. The Red Hood had no right to push Robin out, especially if Nightwing was injured (And Tim was not even going to think of the possibility that Dick had already succumbed to the Ricin). Jason seemed to understand that, even if he didn't understand anything else about Tim and Dick's bond. Either that or the older man realised he could use a spare pair of hands on this mission to rescue his idiot of a little brother.

So it was what an hour later, Tim found himself here, perched on a slim ledge, several floors above an alley way, jamming two lock picks into the lock on Dick's window as Jason stood watch on the roof. The room beyond the window was dark and silent, the effects enough to have both bats on edge as they worked their way into the apartment.

Suddenly, taking Tim by surprise, the lock gave way and the window slid upwards. Before Tim could even think to react, Jason was there, almost knocking Tim off his perch as the older man climbed through the window and into the apartment. Fighting to regain his balance, Tim pushed forward and tumbled through the window after his oldest brother, crashing into a heap on the floor.

Jason ignored the sound as he looked around the darkened kitchen, lenses of his helmet glowing as he studied the gloom. The scene before him was one which would have given Alfred a heart-attack, should the older man ever see but Jason had seen a lot worse. Sharing an apartment with someone like Starfire was not for the faint of heart and Harper hadn't exactly been Mr Clean either. God only knows what sort of place he was keeping that new baby girl of his in. But the thing was, Dick was not a messy person. And even now, Jason could see that. There was chaos here, but it was organised. Everything here gave the impression of mess without actually being a mess. A good cover for someone hiding behind the social image of a teenage bachelor. Turning from the scene, Jason headed towards the bedroom as behind him, Tim rose to his feet, the younger hero staring open mouthed at the messy room.

"Quit catching flies." The Red Hood snapped as he disappeared.

Tim quickly shut his mouth before picking his way across the mess and following Jason into the bedroom. Like the kitchen, it was a pure chaos.

Once again, Tim looked around, surprised at the scene before him.

"Do you think someone attacked him?" The young hero finally asked, eyeing the clothes scattered over everything.

Jason shot him a glance. Clearly the kid wasn't as quick on the up take as Jason had given him credit for.

"You've never been inside a bachelor pad before, have you kid?" He asked.

Tim gave him a funny look, clearly not understanding Jason's meaning. Jason sighed.

"It's meant to look like this. No teenage boy lives in a clean apartment, no matter how much money they have or who their daddy is."

Tim slowly nodded, finally seeming to get it. He looked down at the floor.

"Does that include the blood on the floor?" He asked.

Jason looked down.

"Shit." He muttered as he finally saw what the hero had seen. Droplets of blood formed a trail across the floor and towards the walk in wardrobe. Exchanging glances, the two made their way over to the door. Reaching forward, Jason gripped the handle in both hands before slowly pulling it open.

There was no dead body jammed into the closet. That, at least, was something.

Sighing in relief, Tim stepped forward and reached for the secret catch, opening up the secret door to the next apartment. Dick had shown him this trick when the older hero had first moved into the apartment, suggesting that Tim could use Nightwing's new base if Bruce became too much.

Stepping into the other room, Tim looked around. Unlike the apartment, this place was clean, files neatly stacked on benches, equipment and spare suits lining the walls. However, there was one thing off about it. Tim wracked his brains for what it was as Jason followed, the older man's eyes fixed on the floor and the trail of blood.

Finally, it dawned on Tim. Dick's bike and one of his suits was missing.

Clearly Dick must have gone out on patrol. Did he know about the poison? Or had he put it down as some minor illness? Was he out in Bludhaven somewhere, trying to do his job? Or had something worse happen to him?

Well, there was only one way to answer that question. Walking over to the computer, Tim started to power it up. Bruce had made both Tim and Dick wear a tracker at all times, the Dark Knight claiming it was to stop any surprise trips to Taipei (Tim was sure that the Dark Knight was referring to some incident with that comment but he had never had the courage to ask about it) Dick had a nasty habit of removing them from his suit, but thankfully not his equipment.

If Dick had gone out with his motorcycle, then Tim could track him. Suddenly determined to find his brother, Tim started typing passcodes into the computer.

A crash came from the corner of the room. Tim turned. Jason had kicked over a small bin and was using the sole of his boot to look through the mess at his feet. Suddenly, he bent down, a gloved hand reaching for something in the pile of rubbish. He held it up, studying it. Even from the angle, Tim could see what it was. A thick piece of cloth soaked in blood.

The computer let out a high pitched ping, bringing Tim back to his work.

Nightwing's bike was currently on the highway which joined Bludhaven and Gotham. And judging from the information, it hadn't moved in a while.

* * *

Just ran back for a few moments to let everyone know that after a long wait, I now have a AO3 account which I will be slowly transfering my Outlaws verse to (I will still be posting here, I just think I will reach a larger audience with this second account) Nothing is up yet but I hope to post the first chapter of The New Outlaw there later tonight (That is, if I can work out how to post stuff there) I would love if anyone here has an account, to drop me a line, just so I know you are there. Now to run away again.

Oh, and once again, my information on Ricin comes from browsing the Internet. So i have no idea how accurate it is. I have gathered that there is no cure for Ricin poisoning so treating the symptoms is the only way to deal with it. And that if you aren't dead in 3-5 days of contact, then you will probably not die. But again, Internet knowledge.

And now that it's the day after, I just wanted to let everyone know that the first chapter of The New Outlaw is up over at AO3 under the username White_Noise. Once again, please drop me a line so I know who is also over there.


	7. Chapter 7

So this chapter is dedicated to the lovely Persistence, who sent me an amazing message detailing her theory on this story, all based off a few throw away lines. I won't say what it was, since I don't want to give away any spoilers, but I would like to mention that it is 100% correct. Half of me is impressed at how much detail she was able to get from those few comments (The other half is freaking out and going over my work, trying to decide if those lines were too obvious) So to Persistence (And everyone else who has given a few moments of their time to try and figure out what is happening) this is for you.

* * *

It was hard to gain a sense of time within the Mountain, the various members of the team falling into their own silent musings as they awaited their freedom. It could have been minutes, or hours since the base had gone into lockdown.

Mal, having given up on rewiring the computers, had taken the mask and was studying it by the light of the glow sticks, ignoring Gar as the shape shifter peered behind him, wringing his hands with worry. Jaime was also with them, occasionally making suggestions which more often than not, ended up in an argument with the Scarab and an odd look from his companions. On the other side of the room, Cassie and Karen were talking quietly to each other, occasionally looking over at the white and red figure, resting in the middle of the room.

Even from his station at the door, Conner could hear the gentle heartbeat of the team's speedster. Bart was unconscious, his head resting in M'ganns lap as the girl sat with him on the floor. Even from this angle, the clone could see the Martians glowing eyes as his former girlfriend used her mental abilities to press into Bart's mind, keeping him asleep and unaware of the situation around him.

Conner hated himself for resorting to this, to asking M'gann to invade another person's mind and force the speedster to comply with her wishes and calm down. Bart hadn't wanted to sleep, the situation stressing him to the point of a full blown panic attack. But Conner couldn't honestly think of anything else to do. He had listened to the speedsters increasing heart rate, noting the point where it became dangerously fast before giving M'gann the ok. The moment M'gann had touched Bart; the speedster had dropped like a stone into her waiting arms, finally able to breathe again, his heart rate slowing, giving M'gann more evidence that her actions were acceptable, much to Conner's displeasure.

Certainly, the team didn't judge Conner for his choice to have Bart's mind invaded. None of them had any idea how to help their panicking speedster and had seen Conner and M'ganns actions as a mercy. But if anything, the acceptance of the team made Conner hate himself even more. M'gann was toeing the line with her abilities. How much longer before she went too far? How much longer before someone was damaged beyond repair? How much longer could Conner watch her do this before he finally gained the courage to tell the Justice League what she had done to the Kroloteans…. and what she had tried to do to him?

Who was he kidding? He would never tell. Conner would never do anything to hurt his ex. Despite the hatred he had for her after he had discovered what she had tried to do to him, Conner still loved M'gann. He couldn't deny that, least of all to himself. Yet the clone knew that one day, he would be forced to look on the body of an innocent or a team mate, their mind ripped to pieces, and it would be all his fault.

* * *

Jaime looked up from the black and orange mask in Mal's hands, glancing over at the rest of the team as Conner growled softly, his voice too soft for most to hear without scarab enhanced hearing. In the back of his mind, the scarab was on edge, already suggesting methods of taking the threat down. Jaime quickly tried to supress it, already knowing that any actions the scarab took would only mean pain for him. Conner was not one to attack his own team mates, and had the advantage of knowing the truth about Jaime, but still, he could pack a mean punch if provoked.

Snapping at the scarabs comments, Jaime turned once again to Mal as the teams technical support pulled a small metal object from the back of the mask. The older teen held it up.

"There it is." He said, smiling.

Jaime leant forward.

"What is it, jefe?" He asked as Gar climbed onto Mal's shoulder to take a closer look.

"This," Mal gloated. "Is a miniaturized EMP, courtesy of STARLabs. This disrupted the power supply to the whole base and forced us into a lockdown."

"Wait! That little thing?" Jaime asked as Gar climbed down again, the green teen looking around.

"It may not look like much, but this thing is very powerful." Mal said, placing the device on the computer desk and looking at it. He reached forward, running a finger along the side of the device. Something shifted under his fingers.

Behind him, Gar started pacing.

"That should do it." Mal muttered to himself. In front of him, the computer flickered to life.

Gar turned around, eyes wide and ears pricked as the animal like boy looked at the screen.

"It worked?" He gasped.

Mal pulled the keyboard free from the computer and started typing. Jamie felt movement by his shoulder as Conner appeared, pushing past the younger teen to look at Mal's work.

"So we can finally get out of here? Get help?" Gar asked, jumping slightly. The younger hero was worried. It had been hours since Slade's attack had rendered the team helpless and trapped. And if the changeling knew anything about the villain, it was that Slade could use those few hours to do serious damage.

Mal shook his head.

"Sorry but no. The security program put the base on automatic lockdown for the next five hours. We can move out of this room but the Zeta Tube and the exits are all locked until I can override them."

Gar sank back into himself, looking dejected.

"Oh, and our comms are active again."

Conner and Gar exchanged glances. Slowly, Conner nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his comm. Quickly, he pushed it into his ear, activating the connection.

"Superboy to Nightwing." He called down the line.

Behind him, the rest of the team (Well, except for Bart, who was still asleep, and M'gann, who was still linked to the speedster) looked up. A few seconds later, they were surrounding the clone, watching as he waited for a reply.

"Superboy to Nightwing. Come in Nightwing!"

Silence answered Conner's demand. The clone looked over at the rest of the team. Gar was chewing his bottom lip as Karen placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Cassie had moved around to stand by Jaime and even Mal was watching Conner, ignoring the computer behind him.

Finally, Gar spoke up.

"Try Robin! Try the Justice League! Or the Titans! Just someone!" The teen demanded.

Conner nodded, reaching up to his ear to break the connection.

'_Hello? Superboy?_' a voice called over the line.

Conner blinked, lowering his hand as he recognised the voice.

"Robin?" He asked.

On the other end, the new Boy Wonder sighed in relief.

'_Thank god. Superboy, listen to me. Someone has kidnapped Nightwing_.'

The team let out a collective gasp.

"Kidnapped?" Jaime asked.

"Nightwing!" Cassie gasped.

Gar let out a deep growl.

"Slade."

* * *

Jason's motorcycle coasted down the empty road, the vigilante bringing the machine to a halt at his passenger's insistence. Tim was watching the holographic projection from his glove carefully, following the moving dots to pinpoint Nightwing's last known location.

Slipping off the back of the bike, Robin lowered his glove, looking around at the scene. The road was empty but somehow that didn't make Tim feel better. There was paint scratches and rubber marks on the road, as well as shattered pieces of plastic. There had been an accident here.

Behind Tim, Jason balanced his bike on its stand before walking up behind the Boy Wonder. Tim raised his arm again, studying the holographic map. He nodded towards the trees.

"This way." He muttered before stepping across the road and into the undergrowth. Jason followed silently, letting his youngest brother lead the way as the two drew closer to their brothers last known location.

Finally, Tim saw it.

The motorcycle looked like it had been hit by something solid, the body bent out of shape and half the paint scratched off. Splattered across the blue were dots of red. It was a mess. But Tim could still recognisable it as Nightwings.

Briefly, the young hero thought of how Dick would be heartbroken to see what had become of his pride and joy but that thought was quickly erased as Jason pushed past, the vigilante grabbing hold of the handlebars and pulling the bike upright.

A large blue thing rolled away, disturbed by the sudden movement. Reaching forward, Jason snatched it up, looking at it briefly before tossing it towards Tim. The teen only just managed to catch it. He looked down and then wished he hadn't.

Nightwings helmet was just as wrecked as his bike, the black shine now showing a network of white scratches. The visor was shattered, most likely the source of the plastic on the road.

It was clear now. Nightwing had been in this accident. Yet, there was no body (thank god.) no injured hero. Dick was missing from the scene and Tim didn't know why.

There was a crash as Jason threw the bike back onto the ground, the older man kicking it in anger. He paused, bending down to try and look at the ground.

"Someone tried to hide this." He commented.

Tucking the damaged helmet under one arm, Tim walked around the bike, watching silently as Jason knelt down in the dirt, his fingers brushing at something on the ground. It was a footprint.

Looking around carefully, Tim quickly spotted more, leading from the road to the bike and back. The footprints were large but shallow, well hidden in the undergrowth unless you knew what you were looking for. Each print was large, larger then Dick or even Jason's footprint and far apart, suggesting the owner was tall. Judging by the heavy pattern of the print, whoever had made these had been wearing some sort of rough terrain or combat boot.

Ignoring Jason, Tim followed the prints back up to the roadside, noting the point where they disappeared on the hard surface.

The teen glanced towards both ends of the road, knowing that it was only a faint hope that some clue would be visible to the naked eye. Nothing. With a small sigh, Tim pulled up his computer again, activating the holoscreen and starting the tracer program again, looking for any sign of his brother as Jason joined him on the road.

The older bat was quiet, contemplating the situation.

"He must have been trying to get to the cave when someone grabbed him." The former hero finally said.

Tim looked away from his scan.

"Blockbuster?" He asked. The teenage detective had forced Jason to tell him the truth of the poisons origins after Dick's name had come up on the computer, wanting to know just who had wanted his brother dead. To say he had been shocked had been an understatement.

Jason shook his head.

"Not his M.O. And Blockbuster doesn't look like the sort who would want to be connected to Wings death. No, someone else was here."

Taking a few steps, Jason looked down the road, first towards the direction of Bludhaven and then in the direction of Gotham.

"But who?" He asked himself.

Tim opened his mouth, trying to fight down the wave of horror. Under his arm, the helmet buzzed. Tim looked down.

'_Superboy to Nightwing._' A faint voice called.

Jason turned to look at the source of the noise as Tim jumped, the teen taken by surprise at the sudden sound. Both of them looked at the helmet.

'_Superboy to Nightwing. Come in Nightwing_.'

Jason could see the relief on his brother's face as Tim reached into the hard shell of the helmet, pressing something to activate the comm inside.

"Hello?" Tim called. "Superboy?"

Jason stepped closer to his brother.

'_Robin?'_ The voice asked, the clone on the other end needing to confirm the person on the other end of the line.

Tim sighed of relief. Finally, the team were in contact. That meant more people to help. More people searching for Nightwing. That meant improved chances of finding Dick alive.

Jason looked over at the loud sigh, the older bat watching as Tim raised the helmet closer to his head in order to make communication easier as he delivered the bad news to the Junior Justice League.

"Thank God. Superboy, listen to me. Someone has kidnapped Nightwing."

Tim took a deep breath, seemingly trying to collect himself as the faint noise of many voices talking began on the other side of the link, the team discussing Robin's words. Jason turned away, not interested in the mindless chatter of Wing's little pals. But one word caught is attention, forcing him to turn back around.

A low voice growling one word over the comm.

'_Slade.'_


	8. Chapter 8

That awkward moment when you suddenly remember that you were in fact, half way through a story and had completely forgotten about it. I am so sorry for taking this long to update. I hadn't forgotten about this story (Well, that is not true. I had. I am just too invested in writing my Bondlock series over on AO3 at the moment.) Hopefully it won't be such a long wait for the next chapter. Until then, here. Have some batbrats. And just to make it more interesting, I am throwing in some Titans free of charge. Although you may need to have read 'Return of the Outlaw' before reading this, as I go back to that story a lot in this rather short chapter.

Unbeta'd. I was so desperate to get this chapter up that I wrote it in the middle of the night, and that is never a good time to try and beta something. So I apologise in advance for that one. Also, If it doesn't make sense, well, it is the middle of the night here.

* * *

Jason felt like someone had punched him. The very mention of the man who had kidnapped and tortured his little brother causing feelings he had long since repressed to stir up inside him.

Of course. It had to be.

Deathstroke was a formidable enemy with an unusual obsession. He was strong, far too strong for a weakened Nightwing to fight off, and smart. He would have seen Dick's current state as the perfect opportunity to grab Dick right off the streets. No doubt another attempt at recruiting the young hero. After all, if he survived the poison, Dick would be in no shape to rebuff any mental manipulation the mercenary was so good at.

Jason could still remember that day, back when Dick had only been a teenager. The day when Jason had found himself in Jump, looking into an unusual attack only to find his little brother responsible.

Dick had been in a hell of a state, mentally and physically abused by the mercenary. Jason had certainly enjoyed the fight, keeping the mercenary distracted long enough for his little brother and his team to set up their attack. But he should never have thought that moment, when Deathstroke had cut and run, would be the end of it all. Not by a long shot.

Jason turned to Tim. The pretender was looking confused, as if the name meant nothing to him. It probably didn't. The whole apprentice mess hadn't been Dick's most glorious moment and it wouldn't be a surprise if he had tried to keep it secret from Bruce and probably Tim. The kid had probably never even heard of Deathstroke, let alone the name Slade.

Hell, the Junior Justice League probably didn't know who the man was. But there were people who did. People who knew exactly who they were dealing with. And Jason had an in with them.

Walking over, Jason snatched the helmet from Tim's hands, ignoring the look the teenager shot up at him.

"Listen up. If Wings has been taken by Deathstroke, then we are going to need the input of the Titans. Call them up and tell them to get their arses to Gotham City." he said down the line.

There was a pause, followed by a "Who the hell are you?" It was said in a warning tone, by someone who had already lost his leader and was on high alert.

"The Red Hood." Jason growled back.

There was another pause. Then two people spoke at once.

The first voice, the one Jason faintly remembered as Superboy said "Robin?" As if the teen's word was all that stood between Jason and an arse kicking from the kryptonian clone.

The second voice, the one who had named Slade said "You!" This statement was followed by an animalistic growl.

Tim reached forward, taking the helmet back from Jason.

"It's ok guys. I'm dealing with him. Just...send a message to the Titans. We will meet them on the roof top of Wayne Enterprise in Gotham and discuss what to do next. Robin out."

The teen reached into the helmet again and deactivated the comm. Then he looked over at his brother.

"How do you know the Titans?" he couldn't help but ask.

Ah, so Dick had shared that much at least with the kid.

"One of them, Starfire. She owes me. And she always liked Dickie Bird. She will help. And with her, the rest of the team." Jason said, shrugging. Kori owed Jason her life. But hey, he wasn't lying when he said that she had always liked Wings. Hell, she would probably do this job for free once she realised he was in danger.

Tim studied Jason, as if looking for any hint of deception. Finally he nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"I hope you know what you are doing." he muttered turning to once again look at Wings broken bike.

* * *

With a groan, the hero known as Cyborg lowered his massive frame onto the couch and looked up at the tv. He was seated in the middle of the living room of Titans Tower and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was quiet.

This was a surprise, given the current number of Titans in the Tower. With the recent insulation of Zeta Tubes (A rather generous present from the Justice League), the Titans had seen fit to pool their resources, allowing for one central base instead of splitting up into separate units to cover the country. Titans East, South and North had all been disbanded, their members either moving to Jump, joining a new team (In the case of both Bumblebee and Herald) or taking on Honorary Titan status. It now meant that the ranks of the original team was now made up of many when there had only ever been few.

Cyborg, was of course the current leader of the team, a position he had taken up when Robin, no sorry, Nightwing, had left to return to Gotham and his family. His second in command Raven, and their resident alien Starfire, made up the core of the team after their shape shifter Beast Boy had left for Happy Harbour to join Nightwing and his adopted sister on the Young Justice team. (Cyborg tried not to let the hurt of BBs decision get to him) Then there were the others. Garth, the Atlantean and current Aqualad was now living with them, along with Jinx, Hotspot, Terra, Mas y Menos, Wildebeest, Jericho and Ravager. Red Arrow was also a sometimes member, when he wasn't breaking down all over the place, trawling Star City annoying the Justice League or looking for the original him. And that wasn't even mentioning the honorary Titans who would occasionally stop by.

All up, the Titans had long since grown to be a force to be reckoned with, regardless of losing some of their numbers to the Young Justice.

Still, Cyborg occasionally longed for the old days, when it was just the five of them. He missed playing video games with Beast Boy, missed the serious discussions on Tech and Hacking with Rob, missed how the arguments between everyone would become a free for all, how the kitchen became a battle ground and the stack of dirty dishes became a feature rather than a chore. But mostly, he missed the five of them fighting side by side for their city, their home.

With a sigh, Cyborg reached for his game controller.

There was a beep from the computer.

"Young Justice calling Teen Titans." a voice called.

Cyborg looked over his shoulder. The computer was lit up, a figure standing in front of the screen. The figure in question had dark hair, bright blue eyes and a serious face. His shirt was black but Cyborg could clearly make out the red 'S' on the front.

Sighing, Cyborg rose to his feet, turning to the computer.

"This is Cyborg. Go ahead Superboy." The older hero replied.

The Boy of Steel opened his mouth to say something. A green shape fell in front of the camera, blocking the kryptonian from view. Cyborg blinked as the green shape shifted, showing a faintly human face. Slowly, he smiled.

"Hey BB." he greeted, happy to see his old friend. But BB didn't look happy to see him.

"Cy, listen. It's an emergency. Slade was here, in Happy Harbour! He attacked us."

Cyborg felt himself freeze, his smile dissapearing. Slade. Of all the people to turn up, why did it have to be him?

"And, and..." Beast Boy continued. "And Nightwing has been kidnapped."

Cyborg was immediately at the computer, slipping the view screen in half so he could continue the conversation while pulling up Slade's file. It was just how Nightwing had left it, full of details of the man which had never made sense to the former Boy Wonder, or to anyone else. Information on a man they had never been able to beat.

"How long?" he asked, typing frantically. He knew just as well as any of the original Titans that Slade's appearance was bad, and it happening just as the Titan's former leader happened to disappear? Well, that was even worse. Slade was clearly trying to send a message. Quickly, the young hero set the computer to cross reference the file with the local newspapers in Happy Harbour and Gotham. Maybe, just maybe there would be some clue in there. Some hint of what Slade would be up too.

Beast Boy shook his head.

"We don't know. Slade booby-trapped our base. We have been in lockdown all night and only just got our comms up and working. Robin called it in from Gotham. He is with Nightwing's brother Red Hood. They discovered evidence that Nightwing was taken."

Cyborg quickly thought back. He remembered Red Hood. The cocky teenager who had helped them out of that Apprentice mess. Robin's older brother who had been able to talk some sense into him when the rest of them had failed.

"We will Zeta to Bludhaven and make our way to the outskirts of Gotham. It shouldn't take more than an hour." he said, pulling up a map of the two cities.

"No!" Beast Boy urged. "No time to lose. Zeta to Gotham."

Cyborg couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. Everyone knew of Batman's 'No heroes in his city' rule. But, well, rules were made to be broken.

"Alright." he agreed. He pressed a button on the computer, sending a message to each of his teammate's communicators. In a few moments, his whole team would be in the living room, ready for action. He only hoped they were ready for what they might be about to face.

Cyborg looked at his old friend again.

"Now." he said. "Patch me through to Robin."

* * *

Because I really don't want to take this long again for the next chapter, I am hereby giving my readers permission to give me a verbal kick in the butt if I take too long to post the next chapter.

Thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

So hopefully this will be the last set up chapter before they actually get down to finding Nightwing. Because I know how boring this stuff is. But I needed the Titans to arrive in Gotham and for Wally to turn up. Also, I added the first hints of a Ravager/Robin relationship (Just because it amuses me) Next chapter should be back with Nightwing and Deathstroke and what is happening there. I do have plans for that already.

But honestly, I am sure a lot of people have already given up on this story because it is so slow. I only hope everyone will look at the other stories and remember the good times.

Unbeta'd. I don't have any friends who follow these fandoms so finding a beta is too difficult when I want to post as soon as I finish.

* * *

The top of Wayne Enterprise was covered in shadows, covering the movement of the people traversing the roof. It was the highest place in Gotham and had long since been claimed as the perfect vantage point by the family of heroes which resided in the city.

On the ledge, Robin sat. His feet were hanging off the sheer drop below him as he kicked absentmindedly. He didn't worry about falling off. Like all Bats, he was equip for a long fall, grapple hooks within easy reach even if he didn't know about the gargoyles covering the building which offered a perfect grabbing point.

Behind him, the Red Hood was pacing. Despite having agreed to wait for the Titans to arrive, it was still grating on Jason's nerves, having to give up time which could be used to find their brother. Wherever Nightwing was, it was clear he wasn't safe.

Tim on the other hand, was thinking. Thinking of all the heroes he knew who could help. Young Justice was currently trapped in their base, unable to offer any more help then what could be given over the comms and most of the Justice League were scattered, trying to cover for their core members still on trial. Even before this incident, it had been a stretch to cover everything. Hell, look at Nightwing himself. Taking on Den Mother of the Young Justice as well as covering both Gotham and Bludhaven. So many heroes were all ready stretched to breaking point. Of course, if Tim was to put the word out, he had no doubts the remaining Justice League members would drop everything to come and search for Nightwing. So many of them cared so much for the young hero. But Tim didn't want to add to the strain. At least, not until he knew what they were really dealing with.

But there was someone he could call. A retired hero who owed his allegiance to Dick Grayson, despite the recent tension. He would help, Tim knew he would. Having recently lost so much, he would not want to lose his best friend.

Tim nodded to himself. It was clear now. It was time to call a certain Speedster out of retirement.

Jason was not going to like this.

* * *

Wally was running. It was not his normal, break neck speed which had been earned through dangerous experiments and used in the pursuit of evil. No, it was a careful jog, just around the collage track. It was a habit he had taken up ever since Artemis well...you know. Just keeping it slow, trying to be normal as if his life as a Superhero had never existed.

Sometimes Wally wondered what it would be like if he had never been a hero to begin with. Would he and Artemis be sitting down to dinner and a late movie right now? No, probably not. He had met Artemis because of his work as a hero. Just like how he had met Dick and Kaldur, Conner and M'gann. How he had met the Young Justice and the Titans and even gone toe to toe with the Justice League.

He didn't regret being a hero. Nor did he regret walking away. Yes, he may secretly hate his best friend for pulling his girlfriend into such a risky situation but Artemis had made her own choices. Dick had never forced her and Wally knew she was doing the right thing. Just like how Wally knew, if Dick needed him, he would be there.

It was possibly ironic that this was his last thought as he jogged off the track and towards his apartment.

Even as he pulled the key from his pocket to open the door, he could hear the phone ringing.

Glancing around, he pushed the door open and dashed inside, picking up the phone before the door even had a chance to close behind him.

"Hello?" He said down the line.

"Wally?" A voice called. It was a voice Wally recognised well. Tim Drake. The new Robin. But why was Robin calling him?

"Tim. What's up kid?" He asked, shooting over to the fridge and pulling open the door, reaching inside and pulling out a chocolate bar. He opened it and took a big bite.

"Dick's been kidnapped. We need you back in the field." Tim said.

Wally only just managed to stop himself from choking as the chocolate caught in his throat. After a few moments of frantic coughing, he finally found his voice.

"What?" He asked.

Tim sighed over the line. Poor kid sounded exhausted.

"We lost him sometime this morning. All we know is that he has been poisoned and that the mercenary Deathstroke has been spotted."

"Deathstroke?" Wally found himself asking. Even though he had not been an honorary Titan during the incident labelled the Apprentice Incident, he knew exactly who Deathstroke was to Dick. And he knew just how dangerous this could be.

"Where is the team?" The speedster immediately asked. Although Young Justice hadn't dealt with Slade before, they would certainly be a effective force against the Mercenary.

"Trapped." Tim said in a flat voice. "He already got to them."

Wally felt himself freeze. Of course. He should have seen this coming. Slade would do anything to tip the odds in his favour. If he could keep the team out of it, he would. Finding his feet, Wally turned and dashed into his bedroom, pulling open the wardrobe and shifting through the clothes, looking for the familiar Yellow and Red costume.

"Who do you have?" He asked, crushing the phone between his ear and shoulder as his hands found the familiar fabric.

"Myself and Red Hood have been searching. And the Titans are coming to Gotham to help."

Wally lowered the phone and nodded to himself, stripping off his shirt. The Titans, or at least the older Titans had dealt with Slade before. Still, Wally wasn't going to rely on them finding his friend. As well as they knew Slade, Slade knew them. He would almost certainly factor in their arrival.

Pulling on the suit, he raised the phone to his ear again.

"Where are you meeting?" He asked, sliding on his gloves.

"Top of Wayne Enterprise."

Wally did the maths in his head. Time to the nearest Zeta Tube, plus time to Zeta to Gotham. Add to that the time it would take to get up to the roof of the building itself.

"I'll be there in ten minutes." He confirmed, pulling his goggles on. "Kid Flash signing off."

The speedster ended the call and threw the phone to the side, already speeding to the door. he was out of the building and speeding towards the Zeta Tube before the phone even hit the ground.

* * *

Tim signed and ended the call. He should be happy. More people offering to help find Dick meant there was more chance of finding him alive. Of saving him. But Tim wouldn't kid himself. Dick had been poisoned. They were racing against the clock to find him and none of them knew when their time would be up. And what would happen if they failed? If Nightwing died or worse, joined Deathstroke? What would happen to Jason, already so mentally unstable? What would happen to Bruce, returning from his trial to find that his son gone? What would happen to Tim, losing his brother and friend?

Tim didn't know the answers. He hoped he would never have to find out.

"So..." A voice said behind him. Tim turned to look at Jason, who had finally seemed to register that Tim was still there. "What did Speedy Gonzales say?"

"He's coming to Gotham to help." Tim said, turning to once again look at the Gotham skyline.

Behind him, Jason nodded. the older hero turned.

"Hi Kori." He said.

Tim turned. The Titans had arrived.

Starfire was first, walking over to Jason and hugging him like she was greeting an old friend. Behind her, the five other Titans floated down, the dark magic platform under their feet disappearing as their part demon member Raven willed it away. Sighing, Tim stood up and jumped off the ledge, making his way towards the team.

Stepping off Raven's platform, Cyborg looked around. The huge white lights, spelling out the name WAYNE was like a bad omen to him, remembering as he did, the fight on top of the building in Jump so many years ago, when their leader had been imprisoned and turned into a puppet for a madman.

If only the situation wasn't so similar this time.

Starfire had been first to move, walking towards the figure who Cyborg recognised as the Red Hood and embracing him. Another figure stepped out of the shadows.

Cyborg blinked, for a moment confused by what he saw before his brain caught up. Of course he would look like his brother. Robin stepped forward to greet the Titans.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice. I'm Robin." He said, voice flat.

Cyborg felt himself nod in reply as he stepped closer to the kid.

"Cyborg. I'm sorry this had to happen again." He replied. Behind him, the rest of the Titans gathered.

Cyborg turned. He knew that none of them had met the new Robin before. Although he had never banned them from meeting the kid, Nightwing had kept his family separate from his old team, more for the kids safety than anything else. It was sad that they had to meet in this situation.

Turning to his team, Cyborg began the introductions.

"This is Raven." He said, nodding to his second in command. "Aqualad, Hotspot and Ravager. Starfire is over with Red Hood. The rest of the Titans are back in Jump. We decided that we should search in shifts. It will be more effective that way."

Robin nodded a greeting to each of them and nodded to Cyborg in understnading. Most of them returned the nod, recognising the kid as the brother of their friend. Only Ravager openly stared.

Cyborg had thought about excluding her from the search. Her parentage was an open secret and this incident involving her father could prove to be dangerous for her, her half-brother and for everyone else.

Added to that, her place as the youngest member of the Titans. Ravager had been trained as a mercenary like her father and was violent most of the time. She had never worked with heroes her own age and Cyborg could already see her eyeing Robin with suspicion and just a hint of fascination.

Robin seemed to notice the look. Instead of looking concerned, he gave her a small smile, nodding in a friendly manner. Ravager started. Cyborg had no doubts she hadn't been expecting that.

There was a grunt and the roof door opened, a yellow and red figure appearing. He looked around before pulling his goggles up. His gaze fell on Robin. He nodded.

"Rob." He greeted.

"KF." The younger hero replied.

The speedster stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the kids shoulder. Robin accepted the comfort briefly before pulling away.

Footsteps sounded as Red Hood stepped closer to the group, Star floating beside him. He didn't bother with introductions, instead looking at Cyborg.

"Deathstroke won't have taken Wings far in his condition. He is either going to be in the Haven or here. We will split into two groups. One in Bludhaven and one in Gotham. Me, Kori, Demon Girl and Fishboy will stay here. The pretender will take the rest to Bludhaven. Kid Fail will search the roads between, just in case he took that option."

Everyone looked at the older man in surprise. Cyborg opened his mouth to ask what gave Red Hood the idea that he could order the Titans around but Robin beat him to it.

"And in one sentence, you managed to insult every single person on this roof." The Boy Wonder muttered. Red Hood just smirked in reply.

"But it's a good plan and we don't have much time." Robin continued. Like his brother before him, he was taking control of the situation. He possibly didn't even realise he was doing it. He turned to face KF and the Titans

"Let's do this." He ordered.


	10. Chapter 10

Ok, a big thank you to Month4 for the reminder that this story hadn't been updated in almost a month. It was a great reason to give myself a rest from writing my Bondlock series. Plus, I did ask for the reminder so it was fantastic that someone did it.

Warning: This chapter containes references to The Court of Owls. Although unless you know the story, you probably won't notice it. I am not really planning to use the idea just yet, but I am leaving it open in case I want to continue this verse on after I finish this story. Just so I have somewhere to go. See, I can be practical when I really try.

* * *

Slade was not a man who enjoyed waiting. Certainly, he had waited before. Waiting for the perfect shot during an assignment, waiting for a contact to come through or an item to be acquired, waiting because with his abilities, all he could really do with his life was wait. But those were trivial things to a man like Slade Wilson.

But waiting to see if his apprentice would wake up, now that was a challenge.

The boy was delirious.

That was all Slade could put it down to as he observed the captured hero. Nightwing occasionally tossing or groaning in his sleep as he fought against his restraints, trying to escape from monsters which haunted him in his weakened state. He had broken out into a cold sweat some hours earlier, during a particularly violent episode which had left the young soon to be ex- hero convulsing on the bed, his now unprotected wrists rubbed raw from the strain.

Slade had grabbed the adrenalin and the vial, transferring both chemicals into syringes and ready to use at the first sign of heart failure. An event which was looking more and more likely as the heart monitor by the bed sped up before slowing, showing an erratic pattern.

The boy was fighting the poison. He was strong, both in body and mind. But Ricin was a vicious poison and there was no guarantee that he would beat it. Even with the fluids which were flushing the poison out of his system, it would be a close thing.

But that wasn't all that was in the boy's blood. It had taken Slade a while to identify the strange metal compound as a conductive alloy of silver and copper more commonly known as Electrum. The metal, most commonly found in old coins, had not just been in Nightwings blood, but had bonded with his cells. A process which must have taken years, if not a life time of exposure to complete.

But why it was there, Slade wasn't sure. Maybe some new experiment from the Batman? Certainly, Nightwing could not have been more than a child when the exposure started, around the time that the young Robin had first appeared. But why would the Dark Knight do such a thing to his child? And had he done it to his other sons? And if so, for what purpose?

These were questions Deathstroke would love answered. He didn't like variables in his plans, and this was a big one. If Batman was working on something using his child, it would certainly explain why the Dark Knight had made the younger hero cling to him, long after the boy should have flown the nest. But it would also make it more difficult to hold Nightwing. Batman would fight harder if he stood to lose not just a child, but a project.

No, Deathstroke would need to put the word out, enquire with Batman's rogues about the hero's interaction with his partners. Maybe one of them would know something which could explain this.

* * *

Once again, Tim Drake was standing on the road leading from Bludhaven to Gotham. It wasn't where he was supposed to be. No, Jason had basically ordered him to join the Titans in Bludhaven to begin their search. But when Tim had gotten to this point, he found he could go no further.

Cyborg had understood, almost seeming relieved when Tim had asked to be left behind at the Zeta Tube. Maybe the similarities between himself and the hero they had known as Robin was making them nervous. If so, Tim could understand. Although he personally believed he lacked the confidence of his predecessor, there had been many comments regarding their similarities, especially during his first few months as a hero.

The Titans leader had been given a rough map of possible places which Deathstroke could have hidden Nightwing and a brief outline of Nightwings feud with Blockbuster. No doubt, the older hero was already planning to investigate Blockbuster for possible links to Nightwings disappearance.

It was a good thought. Maybe Deathstroke had been hired by Blockbuster to finish off Nightwing?

But it didn't feel right. Not with what Tim had heard of Deathstroke.

The Titans had given Tim a brief outline of the interaction between the mercenary and his predecessor. To say the Boy Wonder had been shocked had been an understatement. What Dick had suffered at the hands of this man was horrifying. Tim had never guessed that it could be possible if it wasn't for the assurance of the older Titans and Wally's own testimony as the Speedster prepared to begin his own part of the search.

What Deathstroke had done….

Tim shook his head. Bruce could not know about this, that was for sure. The Detective had always been protective of his family and no doubt hearing how this man had systematically harassed and bullied one of his kids would drive the hero to the edge. Thankfully, and this was the first time in a long time that Tim was thankful for this, the Detective was off planet. But at the same time, Bruce was off planet. He couldn't help to find Dick. He couldn't help to save him. It was all on Tim.

Tim's mind was working to its fullest as he desperately tried to think. What would someone like Deathstroke do? No doubt he would have already factored in the Titan's arrival and would put Nightwing in the last place anyone would look. No, that wasn't it. He wouldn't have Nightwing in the last place. He would take him to a place where they would never look at all.

But where would that be?

Just about everywhere in Gotham was Bat territory. It had been for years. There was no place there where you could hide for long. At least, that is what Tim believed. And Bludhaven….

Well, that was almost as bad. Any hiding place would have an equal chance of being discovered. But where would no one look?

Tim turned and looked around him at the dark trees lining the road.

If he had been the one hiding, he wouldn't go into a city. Hiding in plain sight could only work for so long when you were being hunted. But what about the roads between? The places no one ever thought about?

Deathstroke was smart. That much was clear from the brief.

But Tim was smart too. And if he had to hide something, he knew exactly where he would do it.

He reached into the pocket of his belt, where the brand new, bright yellow communicator with the black 'T' rested.

* * *

Wally raced across the ground, dodging trees as he looked around, his speed only a match for his eye sight as he scanned his surroundings. Red Hood had been adamant that Slade would have taken Nightwing to one of the two cities but Wally wasn't so sure. Slade was smart. Too smart. He would have predicted that the Titans would be called, predicted that they would offer enough members to sweep through both cities looking for him.

So really, the smartest thing he could do would be to take Dick away from either city.

Swerving around, Wally started in a new direction.

He was on the main road now, the one which Dick had often used while travelling between the cities. All around him was a wall of green. And standing in stark contrast in the middle of the road, was a red and black figure.

Wally stopped, feeling the slide of his boots as gravity pushed him forward a few metres. Robin looked up from the yellow device in his hands. A device which was quickly slipped into a pocket as the teen noticed the Speedster.

Wally didn't need to see the kid's eyes to know the teen had the exact same thought as him.

Without speaking, Wally reached forward, grabbing the kids arm and hauling him over his shoulder. Robin reacted perfectly, wrapping his arms around Wally's shoulders before the speedster ducked into the foliage.

The pair barrelled through the trees, Robin's cape flying out behind them like the kid was flying.

"We are near Wayne Manor!" Tim shouted, trying to make himself heard before the wind took his words. "Turn left!"

Wally nodded and followed the kid's instructions.

After a few minutes silent running, he risked a look back at the teen clinging to him.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"West. There is an abandoned settlement west of Gotham. It was attached to a factory which went bankrupt back when Gotham was nothing more than a fishing village."

"Why didn't we hear about this before?" Wally shouted back.

"Because almost no one knows it was there! It is never spoken about except by a select group." Tim replied, tightening his grip on the Speedsters shoulders. The advantage of being a young and inquisitive boy with inattentive parents, you learnt some fairly obscure things. Gotham may have its fair share of secrets but that didn't mean it was the only place in the area with secrets. Tim knew that first hand.

Underneath Wally's feet, the ground started to grow rough. At one point, there had been a road here. But that had been a long time ago. But it was a good sign that they were on the right path. Wally followed his feet.

There were another few minutes of silent running.

"There!" Tim suddenly shouted. He didn't dare point, the sudden jolts as the Speedster ran threatening to dislodge him at any moment but he didn't need to. The old buildings loomed suddenly.

Wally slowed down enough for Tim to safely jump off his back which the teen did promptly. Slowing to a stop, the Speedster turned to join the Teen Wonder. They both looked around. There were three, maybe four buildings, all of them in bad shape. And looming above them was a dark factory.

"Well, I can't be the only one with a bad feeling about this." Wally muttered.

Tim ignored him. Pulling out his Bow Staff, the teen stepped forward, entering the long abandoned town.

* * *

Dick was floating. It was an unusual experience, like the one he sometimes got when he was just about to awake from a good sleep and was aware of his surroundings and yet still somehow asleep.

His body felt numb but it was a good kind of numb, where nothing hurt. Where the visions could no longer get to him.

The visions had been less than pleasant.

Sometimes they were of him being hurt and sometimes of others.

Sometimes it was of Artemis crumpling to the ground with Kaldur's blade in her chest. Sometimes it was of Bruce bearing down on him, ready to strike. Sometimes it was of Conner burning up before his eyes or M'gann surrounded by fire, of Wally literally disappearing, Zatanna being ripped to pieces or Kaldur being lost to them all. Sometimes it was of Tim falling into darkness or Jason falling into insanity.

Sometimes it was the team, sometimes it was the Titans. Sometimes it was just people he knew, friends and family. But worst, sometimes it was his parents. Their fatal fall from the trapeze as he watched, the scream catching in his throat, unable to escape.

But that was not the most terrifying vision. No, that was reserved for the one image which kept playing over and over again, of the black and orange mask looming over him, him helpless to escape it.

After that, this space, this numbness was a blessing. It was a same place, where no one could touch him. Of course, sooner or later he would have to leave. To go back to the fight or to finally rest.

He felt exhausted, like he had been fighting for so long and so hard. He 'had' been fighting for so long and so hard. Fighting for Gotham, fighting for Bludhaven, fighting for the team, fighting for justice. But now, it was finally time to stop fighting. Time to rest.

With a final soft beat, Dick Grayson's heart slowed and then stopped.

* * *

And now to run before the masses decide to murder me. I regret NOTHING!


End file.
